Sookie & Eric: Sookie's choice
by Madame Northman
Summary: The story of Sookie and Eric after Sookie is turned. This story doesn't really belong anywhere- it draws from both the show and the books. I've created a couple characters and kept a few that had been killed in either the books or show. Enjoy.
1. Bad News

"Sookie, my love, I would face the sun for you." He said, his lips leaving sweet kisses down my neck before he buried his face in my hair, inhaling so softly, savoring. I loved his promises almost as much as I love what he did with me. He was the only man, dead or alive, that could make my toes curl and send electric pulses through my body just by being near me. Short breaths escaped my lips as I felt his cold, hard body adjust to fit the shape of mine, like a most perfect glove. I loved this feeling. He nibbled gently and oh so naughtily on my ear, still inhaling the scent from my hair. To me, it smelled like Herbal Essences Volume Booster, to him it smelled like fairy and telepath. "I could live in here." He mumbled, his slight accent finding its way to the surface. His hands found their way to my hair as his fingers pulled ever so slightly as he shuddered against my body. His hands left my hair, and my hair left my head in his gentle giant hands. Holding a fist full of highlighted blonde hair, my vampire, my Viking, my Eric looked up at me through startled blues eyes. "Sookie?"

That was the third time I had dreamed of Eric Northman since I had received the diagnosis. There was a reason the headaches were getting worse and my telepathy was slowly disappearing. Words like _tumor_ and _cancer_ were too hard to grasp; so I made sense of it all using more friendly words like _growth_ and when the headaches were especially bad, _parasite._ I hadn't told anyone, but people know something was wrong. Amelia and Octavia, the resident witches of the Stackhouse abode had been hovering since I came home from the doctor. Eric, bound by blood and more able to feel my emotions than I'm comfortable with, had called each night and left numerous messages. Sam knew something was wrong as well. It was getting more obvious with each passing day. I was losing weight faster than normal, even for cancer patients. My eyes were swollen from crying every night, and the bags under them were growing darker by the day. I wanted so badly to return Eric's calls, to find myself in his strong arms and be told that everything would be fine. But it wouldn't. I would die. I would die single, childless, and utterly alone, and the world would soon forget about the eccentric Sookie Stackhouse. I had so many people to tell, I just didn't know where to start.

Jason. I hadn't spoken to my brother since the incident in Hot Shot with Calvin and Crystal. I hadn't meant to forgive him so quickly, but he needed to know. I should call him. I picked up the cordless phone that had migrated from the living room to my nightstand and started dialing his number. By the fourth number, I was sobbing over the phone, just like all the other times I had tried to call someone. My lungs hurt from trying to breathe so quickly, and I crumpled down to the bed and shivered. It could have been hours, or it could have been minutes, but I felt my mattress shift as someone sat down next to me, and a cold hand brushing my hair out of my face. "Go away." I told him. "I don't want to see you right now." Half of it was true. I didn't want Eric to see me with greasy hair, swollen eyes and shuddering in my room. The other half of me still wanted to be in his arms. Being there was the most comforting and wonderful place in the world. His hand brushing hair away from my face led me back to months previous, where he loved me in bed, in the shower, in the kitchen….

"You need me now as I have always needed you, lover." He said. His accent was stronger tonight. I didn't turn to face him. He didn't need to see me, and seeing him would break my heart all over again. "You know how we can fix this. I can make you better than you ever were, and I will always be yours." I woke and turned quickly to find myself alone in the dark, and I knew what my other option was. I would die, no matter what happened, but the new option was rising again, three nights later, vampire.

I thought about it as I worked the next day. Sam hovered around the bar and opened his mouth to speak each time I passed, and decided that he didn't actually know what to say. I focused on tables as best I could, trying to hear people's words and hear what I could of their thoughts. The people that used to be so easy for me to read were shut off from my disability. For once, I truly heard nothing. I messed up three orders and dropped a try within two hours of arriving, and Sam grabbed my arm as I walked by the bar to pick up some onion rings for Tara and J.B., I had brought her French fries by mistake. She was still too preoccupied with her new husband's puppy-dog eyes to notice things weren't at all right. Sam had to speak before I registered he was holding on to me.

"Sookie?" I turned to face him, ashamed of how I looked today. "I called Holly, she'll be here in a few minutes to cover your shift. I'm going to take you home." He smiled, but it was fake. His face screamed "READ MY MIND!" but he was blank to me.

"I'm fine, Sam, I'm just a little tired. I'll grab a coke or something and I'll be fine." I tried to convince both him and myself of this, but it didn't work on either of us.

"Go grab your bag. I'll drive you home." I knew better than to protest a second time, and did as he told me. I waved goodbye to Terry and went out the back door with Sam to his truck. He opened the door for me and held my hand as I climbed in the tall cab. It had never been so difficult before. Once I was in my seat I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, and I heard him shut the door and walk slowly across the gravel to his own side, open his own door and climb inside. I didn't open my eyes when he shut his door, turned on the engine and backed out of Merlotte's parking lot. It wasn't until his warm hand found mine that I found a reason to open them. "You've got to give me some answers." It was that simple, and it had taken him nearly two weeks to come up with that.

"I'm not doin' so great, Sam." I turned to him. I felt like more tears were coming, but I was all dried up. His eyes begged for me to continue. "A couple months ago I started…not hearing people like I used to. I thought I was just shielding better than usual, or it was becoming more natural. I didn't think too much about it. Then the headaches started. I told myself it was allergies, but they didn't stop after the flowers were done blooming." I paused. He waited; his eyes mostly on me, my eyes mostly on the road. "I'm sick, Sam. There's something in my brain and I'm not going to live through this. It's too big and it's growing too fast."

"Do you need money for treatment? I can always lend you some. Hell, you wouldn't even have to pay me back. Just think of it as Merlotte's insurance policy." He tried to smile. The smile faded and he turned too serious. "Why didn't you tell me?" He gripped my hand, it almost hurt but I couldn't find the energy to move it.

"I didn't know how. I thought I might be okay but I went to the hospital in Shreveport the other day and there's just not much anyone can do about it. I haven't even told Jason yet." I shook my head in disbelief that I hadn't told my only kin that my days were numbered. Sam looked like he was about to say something and then stopped, sinking back into his seat. He did this two or three more times before we turned into the driveway. He turned off the engine and sank back into his seat once more and we both stared at the house for a minute. "I could use a bath, Sam. Would you help me?" I was giving up on modesty and trying to be the strong one.

"Yeah. I could probably do that." He finally released my hand and got out of the truck, made his way over to the passenger door and opened it for me. I tried to get out slowly but fell onto him and he caught me before I had time to hit the ground. I always underestimated how strong he was. He held me while I tried to find my feet and get them to work. Once I had found my balance, he let go but stayed close in case I couldn't make it. I walked slowly up to the house and I knew what would be waiting on me inside. Amelia's once crystal-clear broadcasting had been reduced to a whisper, but I had heard her and Octavia waiting at the kitchen table. They knew it was time for the explanation. I sat down at the table and Sam disappeared to my room upstairs. I heard him turn on the bathwater a second or two later before returning downstairs. I was too tired to explain everything to Amelia and Octavia, so I just sat there. Honesty was exhausting. Instead I stood up, steadying myself on the table, and announced that I was having a bath. Sam came to help me, and I didn't stop him. He held me as we walked up the stairs and he sat on my bed while I ducked into the bathroom. "I'll be right here in case you need anything." He was beautiful. The setting sun behind him brought his strawberry blond halo to life, and his smile warmed my heart.

Once I had stripped down and crawled into the bath, I called Sam to come sit next to me. He had used a ridiculous amount of bubbles, and you couldn't have seen through the water with x-ray vision, even if you tried. He had also lit a few candles. Only Sam would think to do that. Well…maybe one other person. I smiled at the thought of him. Sam interrupted my almost-daydream. "So, if you don't mind my asking, what exactly are you going to do?"

I knew what exactly he wanted to know, but I played dumb. "Well, I'm probably going to wash my hair, and then I'll shave my legs and do other stuff and then dry off. Do you have other suggestions?" I seriously thought about asking if he had brought a rubber ducky, but banished the thought from my head. He tried to act light-hearted, but any traces of optimism had vanished with my fake answer to his serious question. "What do you think I should do about it?"

He wasn't prepared for that. He slouched down in the chair he had pulled in from the bedroom. "I don't know. Death is so final. As much as I disagree with it, there are…you know. There's Bill." A cold chill ran through me. He should have known better than to bring up my first boyfriend who had so coldy betrayed me. "You could still work the dinner shift sometimes." I smiled at that. Always thinking of work, never thinking of himself.

"You can't have a vampire bar-maid Sam. You'd lose all your customers." I smiled. This was the first true smile since the diagnosis, and it felt wonderful. I sank down a couple more inches into the tub so enjoy the warmth of the bath.

"Not all of them. Plus I think we'd get some new ones if we had a…" he was struggling with the idea of _me_ as one of _them, _"vampire waitress. You know, tourists and stuff." The man had a point. Most of the people that were upset about things like vampires had stopped coming after the Supe revelation few months ago. Truth be told, that was a whopping 5 customers. "And I would give you all the True-Blood you want." He added. Such a gentleman…sort of.

"But you really wouldn't mind?" I was bewildered how well he was taking this. It was a lot easier to have this conversation with Sam than I thought it would be, even naked in a bathtub with greasy hair.

"It's not ideal." He tried to come up with something else to say. He was struggling. "But having you around in a...in an altered form is still better than not having you around at all. I mean, it's all so sudden. I wish you would have told me earlier, but I just don't think you have much of a choice. I'd rather know you're mostly alive, even if you're not around Bon Temps anymore. I'll miss yah, whatever you do."

That's all it took for my mind to be made up. I reached my hand up, out of the water and held his hand in mine. I didn't care about the wet marks I was leaving on his jeans or the water that was dripping to the floor that Amelia had scrubbed with a toothbrush just a few days ago. "Would you like me to call Eric for you?"

Part of me wanted to do it myself, but part of me just wanted to get it over with.  
"Go for it. Just wait a couple more minutes until the sun sets. Tell him to be here at nine, I'll be ready for him." He nodded, his eyes were starting to well up. "And if you could bring Amelia and Octavia in, that would be great." He nodded again. "I love you, Sam."

"I love you too, Sookie." And he cracked. Tears began flowing down his face and he stood up and left. I let myself fall under the water as I sunk down further into the tub. I had just a minute before Amelia and Octavia came in, so I spent it washing my hair and shaving my right leg. I had just started on the left when they walked in, Octavia sitting in the chair and Amelia sitting on the 3 inches that was the side of the bathtub. She wasn't comfortable, but didn't really care. Sam had told them everything in the hallway.

They both looked at me with frightened eyes, both fighting back tears. Octavia was the first to break down, and blotting her mascara with her sleeve, while trying to smile and be strong. "You don't have to be strong, Octavia. I'm certainly not doing it." I told her and they both laughed awkwardly.

Amelia spoke next, her voice cracking. "Is there anything we can do?"

I nodded. "I need you guys to work some magic."

By 7:30 we were all sitting down to dinner which Octavia had made frightfully fast. She had roasted a chicken and some vegetables, and we were doing our best to laugh. When Amelia started joking about how we'd have to start keeping blood in the ketchup bottles so people didn't suspect anything, I cracked up. Only Amelia would think of that sort of thing. We all had a couple glasses of wine with the meal and by 8:15, Amelia was itching to get to work on me. Back upstairs we went with Octavia trudging along behind us. Amelia sat me down in a chair in front of the vanity and disappeared into the closet. She emerged a minute later, with a silver formal gown Eric had given me a few months ago, and the shoes that went with it. I'd never had a chance to wear either. I guess tonight was my last chance. Or my first…depending on how you looked at it. The two witches worked quickly and by 8:45 I had perfect spiral ringlets falling down my back, flawless makeup and thanks to Octavia and her ability to do just about anything with a spell, had put on some of the weight I had lost so that the dress draped where it needed to. Despite crying for a couple weeks straight and losing nearly 20 pounds (only 10 of which I wanted to part with) the woman in the mirror looked amazing. Those witches were worth their weight in gold. I felt stronger after Octavia had worked on me, and I was able to make it downstairs by myself, and we sat at the kitchen table in silence, waiting as each second passed, bringing the clock closer to 9. Amelia clicked her fingernails against the kitchen table for what seemed like hours; Sam sighed every minute or so. Nobody spoke. "Well I don't know about you guys" Octavia broke the silence, "but I could sure use another glass of wine." This was very matter-of-factly, but I didn't listen.

I felt a pull coming from outside and I stood up without giving it any thought. He was here. With every ounce of strength I had, I pulled open the front door and ran down the stairs, holding up my dress. I felt like a princess in a Disney movie as I ran out past Sam's truck and paused to kick off my heels before starting towards Eric again. He was just coming into view and I hit the soft grass and was able to run faster. He smiled wider than I had ever seen a vampire, no- scratch that, he smile wider than I had ever seen anyone smile, and he ran towards me and within one second, I was in his arms and safe. My heart could have exploded then, and it didn't matter anymore. "Lover," he said, inhaling my scent with a smile. "I've been wanting this so badly."

"I know." I told him, while I flipped my curls to the side to reveal my neck, his lips tracing my eager veins, fangs poised. "And I'm finally ready."


	2. Waking Up

I'd had this dream before. At least I think I had, for it was very familiar to me. I'm sitting at the kitchen table wearing a silver ball gown for no apparent reason, and the resident witches of Hummingbird road, Octavia and her student Amelia were sitting with me, as was Sam, my boss and really great friend. They weren't dressed up at all- it was just me. We were all drinking wine and eating, and everyone was smiling but I didn't know why. Octavia stands up to open another bottle of wine, and I stand up as well. Instead of walking across the kitchen to open the bottle for the aging witch, I dart out of the side door, down the stairs, steady myself against Sam's truck while I climb out of the high heels I was wearing and run across the lawn. I am instantly met by the Sheriff of Area 5, Eric Northman, a somewhat lover of mine. He tells me he has waited so long for this, and I tell him I'm finally ready. I pull my hair off of my neck, and he reaches down to kiss my neck like he had done so many times before; but that doesn't happen. In my dream I smiled because I knew what was coming and he pulled me close and whispered something into my ear that I didn't understand. It wasn't English, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his fangs emerge briefly before they plunged into my neck.

I jolted awake and instinctively went to reach for my neck. It was then that I realized I wasn't in my bed. I was under six feet of Louisiana soil, and tucked in tightly. I instantly panicked and opened my eyes, which wasn't the brightest of things to do when a girl finds herself buried alive. I brought my hands to my eyes to rub out the dirt and then realized that I had moved. That I could still use my body. That I could get out of this. Clawing frantically with manicured nails I tried to dig myself out of the earth before I ran out of air. Digging the soil around my face, it wasn't until I was nearly sitting up in the whole I had dug before I realized I was no longer breathing. My hands froze mid-strike and it all made sense. It hadn't been a dream. I had asked Eric to turn me and tonight, the third night of the transformation, was the night I was to rise vampire. Before another thought had time to run through my head, I found the strength to pull my feet under me and kick up as hard as I could, my left hand barely breaking through the soil and into the night air. Less than a second later, I was pulled to the surface by a hand stronger than mine, and I found myself buried in the strong arms of my maker.


	3. First Taste

Two things I knew already from my very short life as a vampire: 1. Eric was my maker and he would always be there for me. I loved him and if I chose to, could truly spend the rest of forever with him. 2. I was covered in dirt and during my attempt to get to the surface; it had dug itself into every uncovered crevice on my body. I could feel it in my mouth, eyes, ears and nose. Since nobody is sexy covered in dirt, dried blood and 3-day-old makeup, I gave up on being beautiful for Eric and went straight to getting the dirt off of me. Rubbing my eyes and shaking it free from my hair, I felt Eric swoop down and pick me up like he had so many times before, like a groom carrying his new bride to their wedding bed. Or a vampire carrying his newly un-dead girlfriend to a shower. Whichever way you look at it, Eric was carrying me away from the cemetery in which I had awaken, and conveniently, up the stairs of my house. The front door had been left unlocked and before entering the kitchen, I had insisted that I could walk myself up to the bathtub, and he obediently put me down and let me in to the kitchen. He was the first to enter the house as he had been invited (and uninvited, and invited again) in by the former, living/breathing me. "Come in, lover." He said softly, and I was able to cross the threshold into my own home. There were no lights on, but this was hardly a problem. Rose petals and candles had created a path to my bedroom, and I followed them up the stairs and in to the bedroom, which had been changed during my three nights away. The windows had been closed off and covered with drywall and then painted over, light-proofing the room, and music was playing softly from a CD player that hadn't been there three days ago. The bed had been turned down, my white cotton sheets had been replaced by crimson satin sheets, which looked oh-so-inviting. I wanted very much to throw my Viking down on those sheets and do what we did best until the first ray of sunlight, but my attention was drawn to the bathtub, filled with steaming water and decorated with floating candles and 6 vases of red roses on the side where my soaps and shampoos used to be. It may have taken him a thousand years, but Eric Northman knew how to treat a lady.

I felt Eric's warm hands working the back zipper of my dress. I had never noticed how gentle they were before, but I had never been dead before either. I certainly had never thought of him as "warm" before, that was for sure. It took everything I had to not turn around quickly and knock him down onto the floor and have my mud-encrusted way with him, and he of course knew this. Taking his sweet time, I felt his tender kisses creep down the back of my neck and keep traveling to the small of my back, while wiggling down the tight dress. After having Eric many times before and knowing full well what he did to me (just the memories of it made my toes curl) I took this chance to give my dress one more little wiggle and let it slide down my legs. If I weren't covered in dirt, I would have called that my sexy-move. I climbed into the bathtub and sank down slowly, enjoying the heat and watching as the dirt fell off my skin and formed little swirling whirlpools in the water. "I think there might be room for one more in here…" I said in my naughtiest voice, which paled in comparison to Eric's ever so slightly accented words. With a smile showing the slighted hint of fang, he slowly (that big tease!) took off one of his shoes, then the other, and sloooowly unbuttoned his jeans, giving his hips a little wiggle before reaching for the zipper. I nearly bit my bottom lip off as he did this. Curious about my new superhuman strength, I gave up on waiting and pulled him into the bathtub with me, which did not work well as he is a very tall man who certainly didn't fold well unexpectedly. He made quite a splash, and left my roses and rugs drenched and the dozens of candles extinguished, and small ladders of smoke creeping upwards to the ceiling. Once he had situation himself across from me in a tub that's barely big enough for 5'6 me, his lips found mine and I thanked the heavens that I no longer needed to come up for air; I could kiss Eric all night. My hands instantly went to tugging his shirt off, and forgetting my strength, I tore the shirt to shreds. Realizing what I had done, he paused to smile and even laughed a little as I threw his shreds of shirt to the side and went back to him. The jeans were harder to take off due to their being soaking wet and him being twisted up around me. I tried to rip those off too, but he grabbed my hands and held them in his. I loved how both of mine could fit in just one of his, and his other hand found its way to my cheek.

"You're so beautiful." He said, and it sounded like the truest, most sincere thing I'd ever heard anyone say. There was a mirror on the wall across from us, and I turned to see what he saw. I was still muddy, with half of my hair wet and stringy, and half of it still in overly sprayed curls thanks to Amelia and Octavia. Other than the mud, I looked exactly the same…with one exception. My bathtub fun with Eric had brought out the true vampire that I would have to learn to live with, and two brilliantly white fangs had appeared in my smile. If this was beautiful to my Viking, then he was too perfect for words to me. "Why don't I get out and go get you a snack, and you clean yourself up. I think you've got some people who would like to hear from you."

Oh my stars. I hadn't even thought about my two roommates and Sam. Were all vampires this selfish? Or did they sprout a conscious after the horniness was taken care of? Eric climbed out of the tub in his soaking wet jeans and wiggled out of them, dropping them on the bathroom floor. Maybe I didn't have to talk to anyone tonight…would it be too much to ask for just one night of just me and Eric? Grabbing a towel to cover his naked self, Eric turned back towards me and planted a light kiss on my forehead before vanishing quickly downstairs. I wonder if I could move that quickly yet, or if that, like glamouring, needed practice. Immediate effects or not, vamp-speed sprinting was probably best not done in my bathtub. Or in the nude. Remembering that the shampoos and soaps were gone from their normal spot, I stretched and was able to reach into the cabinet under the sink without getting the rug under it even more wet from Eric's big splash. There are nice things about being dead, like never having to shave your legs again. I remembered Bill saying that vampires look exactly the way they looked the minute they died. Thank goodness one of my last human deeds was shaving! I found the shampoo where I expected it to be and went at my hair, scrubbing out mud, hairspray and probably a worm or two. I halfway wished he had put me in a coffin so I wouldn't have to deal with the mud, but the bath had been quite fun…

By the time Eric returned, I was drying off with one of the towels that managed to stay dry during the tidal wave I had caused. I debated dropping it on the floor when he walked into the bathroom, but I noticed he had brought with him two glasses of red wine. Okay, scratch that. He had brought with him two glasses of blood in wine glasses. Classy: I was halfway expecting True Blood in the bottle or a stolen blood-bag with a straw punched through it, Capri-Sun style. "What's that?" I asked, taking one of them from his hand, standing on my tippy-toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

"B positive. It's all I could find before you broke ground." I was still a little repulsed at the thought of drinking blood, but I swirled it around in the glass like I had seen the wine connoisseurs do on TV, trying to be all cutesy. The scent of it hit me like a brick wall, and before I even realized how good it smelled, I was reaching for the second glass he had in his hands. I saw his smile through the glass as I drank the last drop. I seriously thought about licking the glass, but didn't. Now I was ready for things-vampires-do-best-#2, and Eric quickly found himself without a towel and between a lovely new set of satin sheets. "So I take it you like the new bed?" He asked, that naughty smile still on his lips. I didn't give him a chance to speak for the rest of the night.


	4. Witches, Werewolves, and black lace

I never saw the dawn coming on my first night, but I felt it. My everlasting energy came to an abrupt halt mid-kiss, and I felt myself fall instantly into the deepest sleep I'd ever experienced. I was just beginning to ask Eric if I needed to be underground or in a coffin for the day, but I wasn't able to get the words out before I was suddenly…well… dead. For the first time in weeks there were no frightening dreams, no bumps in the night (other than the bumping we had done all night, of course) only perfect, restful bliss.

On my second night as vampire I woke to a familiar sound, Eric's phone receiving a text message. Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? He had woken before me as he was older and needed less sleep than most vampires and was texting his other 'daughter' for all intents and purposes, Pam. She had sent no less than 35 texts throughout last night, but he was too busy to answer her texts. Seeing that I was finally awake, he rolled over to my side of the bed (I loved the way that sounded - it was like he had always been on the other side just inches away from me) and was about to kiss me before I remembered my atrocious morning breath and covered my mouth instantly. He smiled his you-know-I'm-amazing smile and chuckled, "That's not something you need to worry about anymore." He was right. My mouth tasted exactly like it had last night, like Eric with a trace of B positive. It was delicious. "Sookie, my love, I've got to go to Fangtasia tonight to meet with Chow and Pam. May I show you off?"

"Uh, what?" It took a minute to process, but it came eventually. "What am I going to wear? I can't wear my Merlotte's shirt." I had plenty of other clothes to wear, but hardly anything appropriate for the big bad vampire I had become.

"Well…" he began, twirling my hair in his fingers, "I did have Tara drop off a few things today in the kitchen." You have to admit, he's good. "And if you don't see anything you like, then we can call Pam and see what she has for you."

Pam, one of the major attractions of Fangtasia, had a wardrobe of extremes. Her "work" clothes included patent leather everything with chains and spikes. Her "play" clothes looked like she had rummaged through Jackie O's Channel collection before she left the White House. Neither were very Sookie. But Tara's clothes were always perfect for whatever occasion came up, especially those involving Eric. She knew what Eric liked on me, and she knew Eric's credit card had no limit. Bill may have owned the strip mall where Tara's Togs existed, but Tara was totally Team Eric since he got rid of her "Mickey Problem" as we called it. Excited to see what Tara had dropped off, I ripped the satin sheet off my bed, hastily wrapped it around my naked self and sprinted downstairs faster than a Nascar race. Speed felt good. I'd have to try that again. My eyes immediately found the clothes Tara had left on the kitchen table, and Amelia holding one of the lacier short dresses up against her, checking her reflection in the mirror. Startled by my reflection standing behind her own, she turned. She and I both had seen the damage a new vampire can do, so I kept my distance until I could get some more B positive. I hadn't even tried other kinds, but I already knew that was my favorite. If I were to taste human blood straight from the neck, I'm not entirely sure I'd be able to stop. _I wonder how long it takes them to get pale…I thought it was sorta instant._ "Well good morning, sunshine! Or am I going to have to start calling you starshine now?" _That was terrible. She's going to bite me. I wonder if it's the same as when Pam…mmmmm..._

"Oh my stars, Amelia! Stop!" There was one good thing: my telepathy was back. All my life I'd wished it away until it vanished, and I kind of loved having it back. I still couldn't hear vampires though, or at least I couldn't hear Eric. But after having had his blood 4 times now, it wouldn't be hard to guess. His emotions came through to me as strong as my own now. Amelia handed me the little black dress she had been halfway modeling, careful not to get too close. I would hate for her to end up hurt because she trusted me too much.

"This one is perfect for tonight." She smiled. She had already bonded with the dress and was thinking about borrowing it sometime when I was asleep, shortly before remembering she was warned by Eric to never ever under any circumstance open my door before the sun had set. Or while he was in there with me. Which make me wonder, who all had he told?

"What's going on tonight?" I asked. I hated not knowing what was going on.

She cracked a smile. "Why it's your welcome back party, silly!" Amelia was extremely proud of herself for keeping it a secret this long. Apparently Eric had begun planning it the second Sam had called asking for his help. Which meant that Sam might be there! I grabbed the dress and sprinted back upstairs to go put it on. "Hold your horses! Some of us still have to get ready at human speed!"

It took me 24 minutes to shower, dry my hair, throw on a little makeup and wiggle into the black dress and matching stilettos. Since I didn't care for looking conservative tonight, I went for the black lacy push-up bra and matching panties. Why not? Eric deserved a nice surprise after the party. Eric had gone outside to make some calls when I was getting ready, and by the time Amelia had made her grand appearance in a little red silk dress with matching heels, Dawson, her new boyfriend who also happened to be a werewolf was waiting in the drive with his truck. I waved at Dawson from the house and then opened up the screen door and walked out onto the porch. Eric was sitting on the hood of his corvette (because something normal would just be…not Eric) and I went over to Dawson, keeping my distance. With newly enhanced hearing, I could hear his pulse, and my fangs were only seconds away from emerging and I stepped back an extra couple feet for good measure.

"Vampire looks good on you, Sookie." Dawson said. He was one of those strong and silent types, emphasis on the strong part. Weres were only beat in strength by vampires. A smile fell over my lips as I mentally envisioned challenging him to an arm wrestle. Eric snapped his phone shut and wandered over to say hi to the Werewolf. Normally Eric didn't bother mingling, but he seemed to understand that I wanted my new life to be as close to the old one as possible, and bless him, was making an effort. Unsure of what to do, he reached for Dawson's hand in a strange shake thing that confused the werewolf and Amelia, who was now standing at my side. _Awkward _she thought, and I laughed in agreement.

"Let's get going, babe! I can't walk in with Sookie, people won't know who the party is for!" She smiled and gave me a good elbow in the side so I knew she was kidding. She gave me distant air-kisses and skipped over to the passenger side of Dawson's truck and climb in gracefully. "See you in a few minutes, Sookie!" She hollered out of Dawson's window while buckling her seat belt. The engine roared to life a second later and they both waved as they headed towards the party in Shreveport. Eric had wandered back over to his corvette by then, and had return to leaning against the hood.

His eyes scanned me up and down and then up again. He seemed pleased with the dress. "Shall we have a drink, lover? I can't have you going to the party and killing all the guests." Oh that smile.

"I'd love one." Within an instant he had swept me off my feet again and carried me into the kitchen, effortlessly. I could get used to this. He opened the fridge after setting me down, and I leaned into the table to enjoy the view of him leaning over, looking for our snack. He pulled out a bottle of Burgundy Royale, a high-end bottled blood brand designed to look like a bottle of red wine, which came in handy when vampires found themselves in human bars and restaurants. He poured the bottle into two tumblers and stuck both in the microwave. I was curious to try it cold just to see how it tasted; by I had been assured by more than one vampire that the only way to drink it was at 98.6 degrees. He replaced the cork and set the bottle back in the fridge and pulled the glasses out of the microwave, handing me one. Eric had much more control over his premature fangulation than I had, and was able to drink it without showing any fang. I, however, had been fanging since he leaned over to get the bottle out. A little embarrassed, I drank quickly, and took his glass and my own and loaded them into the dishwasher. Turns out, household chores are an excellent way of storing your fangs in an upright and locked position. I'd have to keep that in mind.

"Shall we go?" I suggested, eager to see who all would be at the party. He was equally eager to show off his newest creation, and his first in nearly 100 years.

He came and stood in front of me, pulling my arms up and wrapping them behind his neck like we were preparing for a high school dance. Little kisses down my neck, and I was ready to head back upstairs and forget the party. One last kiss on my lips and then, "Oh I don't see why not. Pam's been waiting for this since she met you. She's quite excited to have a new vampire-friend." He grinned, and he managed to make it just a fraction of an inch wider, I might have mistaken him for the Cheshire Cat. He let my arms drop and caught my hand in his, leading me out to his little red corvette. I could get used to this.


	5. Welcome Back Party

Within seconds of firing up the engine of the corvette, Eric received a text from Amelia saying the Bud Dearborn was parked behind the big rhododendron bush off of Hummingbird road with his radar on. Dawson has a tendency to drive with a lead foot, so they were pulled over, Bud only happy to write a ticket for the newly 'out' Werewolf and witch couple. She explained in her next text, which Eric read aloud, that Bud suddenly seemed "stupidly unaware of what he was doing and walked back to his car." Amelia's magical ability was growing stronger by the day, but every once in a while, she did enjoy the 'little things' like changing someone's mind mid-ticket. This wasn't the first time she'd changed Bud's mind, and he never seemed sure of how to act around her after the first couple speeding incidents. While Eric dazzles brilliantly, I'm not sure he could dazzle his way out of a speeding ticket, and I asked him to go slow (which of course, was 80 mph all the way). I still had a million questions for him that had…uh…slipped my mind last night.

"You're nervous." He stated, turning down the ACDC to hear my reply. Was I that easy to read?

"A little. I just don't think people are going to feel the same about me now." He turned as if to ask, _like who? _"You know, like Sam. He was always weird around anyone who…you've seen it. Anyone who shows any interests in me puts him on alert. And now that we're, you, know, us…it's going to be weird. And Amelia. She's fine with it but I don't want her to be that fine with it. I could seriously hurt her! And are things going to awkward with Pam, and do I have to hang out in Fangtasia now, or…" I stopped when Eric's hand found mine after shifting into sixth.

"The people who have been in your life will stay in your life as long as you want them to. If you want them gone, all you have to do is tell me." I suppressed a shudder at that. Bill Compton had killed my funny uncle after I told him what had happened when I was younger. I can't imagine anyone else being taken out like that. "And you'll figure out what you're comfortable with soon enough. And if you need people to stand farther away from you than normal, that's fine too. And if you want to leave early, just let me know and we'll go." My god, this man was perfect. "And I've spoken to Pam and Chow, and all of the others at Fangtasia, and they won't be a problem. You're free to come and go as you please." I relaxed at that and sunk into the seat.

"And what about…"

"Us." He finished my question. "I was wondering when this was coming. May I start?" I nodded and he continued, never letting go of my hand. "I was thinking that I'd like to be with you. Forever, if that's not too much to ask." My goodness, if I could still blush I'd be beet-red. "I've already sorted things out at the bar so that I won't be working every night of the week, and Pam and Chow seemed more than happy to pick up my old hours." I was truly amazed. I knew he was good, but working less? This Viking was all about his bar. He'd really do that for me? Why couldn't I ever get this lucky _before_ I died?

"And what about, well, I guess living together?" It seemed like a strange way to describe what was going on. Nesting together? Dwelling together? Sleeping like the Dead together? "I'm more than happy for you to stay, if you'd like. Or you can keep living where you are. Doesn't matter to me." _Please say you'll stay at my place, please say you'll stay at my place. _

"Then I will. I'll keep the place in Shreveport and have a place for you dropped off here in the event that we can't make it back to your house before dawn or we need a different place to sleep for the day." That was only fair, and probably really smart. We had a few rednecks burn down a house with a vampire nest about a year ago, and it could certainly happen again. Eric did have quite a few people, both living and undead that would like to see him disappear, and by association, I did too now. I had one more question, but I wasn't ready to ask it. Maybe with time I'd feel comfortable enough to bring it up, but today didn't have to be the day. We had all the time in the world.

If you've never seen a vampire just sort of shut off and stare blankly ahead, it's a strange thing to see. It's an even stranger thing to experience firsthand, but my body felt the need to shut down to process everything from my brief conversation with Eric. The true peace of mind that comes with it is just wonderful, and I snapped out of it as we pulled off the street and into the gravel driveway at Fangtasia. I instantly and habitually reached down to grab my lipstick out of my purse, and then realized I hadn't brought it. I guess I had been so distracted by not killing my houseguests I'd clean forgotten my bag. Eric, however, pulled exactly what I was looking for out from the seat behind me, and handed it to me. "Uh, thanks." I mumbled and dug through it looking for my reddest lipstick. I loved having someone finally know me well, but this well…it's going to take some getting used to. I flipped down the mirror, and even though I knew better, I was still halfway surprised to see my own reflection. I guess some vampire myths are too deeply imbedded to grow out of after just a couple days. I traced the curves of my lips with a color Eric had once picked out for a ball, 'Arrest-me-red'. Bless him, he wasn't one for subtlety. His utter lack of subtlety was only made more obvious by his hand placed on my thigh and traveling north while I tried to blot my lipstick. "I'd rather not go inside with you all covered in my lipstick, babe." I told him, fighting back fangs and hormones, and snapped the lid on the tube. If that game went any further, we'd never make it inside. If I could still blush…oh my.

Our intimate moment was disrupted as Calvin Norris' truck pulled up into the parking lot and parked beside us. Eric's hand vanished from my thigh and darted for his door handle, and he had dashed around to let me out of the car before Calvin had even had a chance to turn off the truck. Luckily, Calvin didn't seem to notice how close he had been to watching vamptastic sex in a corvette. "Well hi there, Miss Stackhouse! You're looking nice tonight!" He said, as Eric opened my door and offered his hand so I could climb out without showing Calvin the panties I wore for Eric.

Calvin had come alone, and I was more than happy to see that. He was the only person in Hotshot I could even pretend to get along with since my brother's estranged ex-wife cheated on his while she was pregnant with his child. The only thing lower than the whole situation was Jason making me break two of Calvin's fingers in the ceremonial punishment of Crystal. Calvin had of course healed since then, as shifters tend to heal much faster than normal people, and seemed to be over any hard feelings that might have come from my bashing his hand in with a cinderblock. "Well good evening Calvin! You look great! Looks like everything healed up just fine!" I tried to sound all cheery, but was still trying to be distant. Calvin, although harder to read than most, was making his feelings towards Eric very clear, which wasn't the smartest of things to do. Calvin held up his hand in an awkward wave to show off his miraculously healed fingers, and Eric rolled his eyes. He never was much good at small talk. Calvin sensed he was about as wanted as a zit on prom night, and told us he'd see us both inside.

I managed to take one high heeled step towards Fangtasia before I found myself pinned against the corvette by an undead Viking, his warm-to-me hand cupping my face, his lips an inch from mine. "You'll be fine," he promised, "I'm here for you if you need me." Remembering the liberal coat of red on my lips, he left a kiss on my forehead and then taking my hand, led me gracefully across the gravel parking lot and into the front door. I tried not to think about anything. I could go for another one of those blank moments right about now…

One of the first things that you notice when you wake up vampire is that every moment is a sensory overload. Smells are a thousand times stronger, colors more vivid and my hearing could put a cat's to shame, adding in the usual telepathy and it's almost too much. Almost. Walking in on a room of my friends, both living and not-so-much, was overwhelming to say the least, but it felt great. The normally dreary bar with black furniture and blood-red walls and dozens of leather-clad vampires and people had been filled with nearly everyone I cared about. It was refreshing to see people that were dressed in colors other than red and black, and the metal music had been turned off and replaced with a top 40 playlist. It's much easier to ease into a situation with Fergie than it is with Marylyn Manson. Someone had bought a foil "Welcome Back!" sign and added on to it with construction paper, "From the Dead!" Yeah, I guess that's not something you'd find at the usual party supply store. The tables were lined with goodies like chips and cookies for the living, and people had apparently started quite a while ago…I guess I had taken my sweet time to get here.

"Sookie! I love that dress on you!" Tara broke through the crowd, dragging J.B. behind her like a small dog being pulled by a fast runner. She planted a kiss on each cheek like she had done since her trip to Paris three years ago, and it took everything I had to not bite into her neck. She had no idea how tempting her neck, only inches away from my mouth had been.

"Well thanks Tara! I always love coming downstairs and finding half your store on my kitchen table!" I laughed, it felt good. It had been a while.

She was beaming. She loved selling those clothes nearly as much as I liked getting them. "Great!" She practically yelled over the music, but I could have heard her if she'd whispered. By then Eric's hand had left my own and he'd gone to speak to Pam behind the bar, who was dutifully warming up True Bloods in the microwave as Chow handled the human drinks. "So you're with Eric, like, full time now?"

"It looks like that! I mean, I could hardly go date a normal guy after everything I've been through with him, you know?" Tara didn't have time to answer before Sam jumped in from the side and gave me a big bear hug and ruffled up my hair.

"Not bad for dying and spending three days in the cemetery." He was taking this way better than I thought he would. He must have come to terms with it because it was the only way to keep me around.

"Well thanks Sam, and I never got to thank you for helping me out the other night." His arm lingered on my shoulder, he was thinking he only wished I were still warm. This was weird. "You're just going to have to get used to it. There's not a lot I can do about it." I smiled, answering his thoughts.

"No matter what you look or feel like, it's good to have you back." A pat on the shoulder, and then he disappeared back into the clump of friends I hadn't talked to yet. Maybe he wasn't handling it that well after all.

With Eric still standing behind the counter, but never taking his eyes off me, I waded into the clump of friends and favorite customers from Merlotte's. Hoyt Fortenberry jumped in with a hug bigger than Sam's and quickly apologized for Jason not being able to make it. I figured he wouldn't. Pam scared the bajesus out of Jason, and I wasn't ready to see him after the Hotshot incident anymore than I was to see any of the other Were-panthers. Well, with Calvin being the exception. After Hoyt had stepped to the side and resumed flirting with a vampire he thought he could handle (and boy was he wrong!) then Haleigh Bellefleur stepped up. "You look great! I might be looking to trade in Andy for one of your vampire, boys, Sookie!"

"Oh come on, Haleigh! You've only been married a few weeks! How was your honeymoon?" This started a long series of adjectives like "wonderful" and "warm" and "sunny" and "wonderful" again, and, nodding with the occasional "oooh, ahhh" I scanned the room to see who was and wasn't there. The normal Fangtasia workers were bustling in the background, picking up plates and empty cups and bottles, and some of the usual Merlotte's customers were nursing drinks at the bar, occasionally stealing a glance at Pam or Chow. Chow did his usual half-wave and head nod simultaneously with a toothy smile and a wink, and Pam gave an approving nod and motioned that she needed to speak with me. I waved back to Chow and gave Pam the just-a-minute-sign and turned my back to find Alcide Herveaux standing bashfully behind me, looking at his foot that was making rough figure-8 patterns on the floor.

"Uh, I just thought I'd come and…you know, I live just down the street and…Maria Star would have…"

"Hi Alcide." Nothing like a fresh start to a severed end. "It's been a while. How are you?" He looked up immediately, surprised at the direction I'd taken with his stammering. "How's business?"

"Things are fine. Business is okay. You look good, Sookie."

That was nice to hear from him, even if I did think he was an asshole. "Thanks, Alcide. How's being packmaster treatin' yah?"

"Fine. Just fine. For once things are pretty quiet, so that's been good." He wasn't sure what else to say, so he just pointed to something behind me to put my attention elsewhere. He went back to talking to Dawson, and Amelia at his side gave me a wink and blew a kiss, and then motioned for me to keep going. I turned around again and nearly plowed straight into Octavia, who looked more out of place than a Nascar fan at a fashion show. I hadn't seen her since the night she helped me get ready, and I was glad she hadn't vanished off the face of the earth. She just put her hands over mine and squeezed, nodding and with a reassuring smile.

"I'm glad for you. Things are going to go very well from here." She told me. "Very well indeed." And coming from a powerful witch, that's something you've got to take to heart.

The next hour or so went pretty much the same, chatting with Sam again, Amelia again after Dawson 'started talking motorcycles' as she called it, and chatting briefly with some of the usual Merlotte's customers that were more curious about the vampire bar than doing any welcoming back from the dead party festivities. The more nervous guests, like most of Merlotte's customers and Calvin, had shuffled off by midnight, and by 12:30, Chow had turned up the music and to the audible pleasure of the women still hanging around, began dancing on the bar, rippling his tattooed muscles and flinging his shirt off, throwing it onto the new Mrs. Bellefleur, who turned out to still be quite the blushing bride. J.B. then helped Tara up onto the bar, and Chow then had a dance partner. Tara had been quite the dancer at all of the high school dances and still took every opportunity to strut her stuff. This homecoming queen had even done the electric slide in a crown and had somehow convinced me to replicate that dance in a vampire bar in Dallas with her. Tara and Chow danced for a minute before one of Haleigh's friends, a girl I knew briefly from the wedding jumped on the other side of Chow to join them and maybe become a blood donor for the night. Amelia had decided to get her groove on as well, but remained on the floor. I was seconds away from finally reaching Pam for the chat I promised nearly 2 hours ago, but Amelia grabbed my arm and decided that I was going to dance with her since Dawson clearly wasn't. She'd had more than a couple drinks at this time, and she literally squealed with delight when Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" came over the sound system, and she suddenly turned into a clueless salsa dancer, mostly just shaking her butt in circles and pointing drunkenly at me. I caught Dawson's attention and motioned to cut her off the mojitos for a while. He laughed and nodded in promise. A few more socially hazardous dances with my drunken roommate, and she announced needlessly loud in a volume that could be heard three states over, "I need to pee!" and wandered off to the find the bathroom. I noticed Pam followed her in there a minute later…maybe that fling wasn't as over as I thought it had been. I headed back over to the bar where Eric was wiping up after the drinks that had unintentionally been kicked over by Chow and his backup dancers, who had moved down to the floor after wanting to join Amelia in her Shakira moment. I sat down at the bar, slowly, knowing full well Eric hadn't taken his eyes off me in nearly an hour.

"Hi bartender." I smiled. He leaned over the bar and rested his face in his hand, mimicking my own position.

"What can I get for you, Miss, Stackhouse, is it?" He joked back. The bar must have done well tonight to put him in such a good mood.

"A blood and a kiss please. And perhaps the next dance…" The kiss request was answered first, with a gentle peck on the lips that was perfectly appropriate for public. Not that anyone still sticking around would mind. He then uncorked another bottle of Burgundy Royale and microwaved it for a few seconds before pouring a generous helping into a wine glass. He placed it in front of me with another kiss.

"That one's on the house." He smiled, and went for a third.

"Honestly, you two, that is just nauseating. If I could still throw up I might seriously be doing it already." Ah yes, Pam was back. She parked herself in the empty seat next to me and threw her arm lazily over my shoulder. "Sookie, it's good to have you back. And might I say, dead looks good on you?"

"You always knew how to flatter a girl, Pam." We shared a good laugh at that, and Eric, shaking his head went back to wiping down the bar. "But seriously, what's with Amelia? I saw you follow her!"

Pam faked embarrassed badly. "Whatever can you be talking about?" Pure sarcasm with a southern drawl. "Well, it's been a while since I batted for that side, and I must say, I rather enjoyed having her around. Shame about the werewolf." She glanced back at the two of them, now huddled together in a booth. Amelia's eyes briefly left Dawson's and Pam accepted that as her cue to join them, doing her well rehearsed catwalk strut over to the booth. Eric and I were alone again. He threw the bar rag to the side and poured himself a blood from the same Burgundy Royale bottle, and we clinked glasses.

"To us." I said, and brought my glass closer to me.

"To that dress." Eric smiled, taking another eyeful or two. I was able to have this drink more slowly since I wasn't terribly thirsty. He was right, synthetic blood, even at 98.6 degrees, was no match for that B positive I'd had last night. Sometime in the past couple minutes, Eric had switched the radio station to something slower, and Aerosmith's "Don't Want to Miss a Thing" was playing, and J.B. and Tara were dancing on the floor, still staring into each other's eyes like the newlyweds they are. If they had any idea that nearly every eye still left in the bar was watching them, they certainly didn't show it.

The song finished and I turned to Eric, slightly jealous of what Tara and J.B. had and asked him "Do you think we'll ever be like that?" I didn't know what I was expecting for an answer, but I was perfectly pleased to find him leading me to the floor as Elton John started singing about his blue jean baby.

"What else is it that you're wanting, lover?" he asked, his arm finding its way to my waist. Pam answered his question during a turn by pointing to her ring finger and winking at Eric. I caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

"That's not it." I assured him. If Eric were still breathing, a comically large exhale would have gone here. "At least not right now." Elton was laying into his piano, getting ready for the chorus. "I don't know. Everything, the past couple nights, tonight, it's wonderful. It's all a girl could ask for. It's just weird to think that the life I really envisioned for myself just isn't going to ever happen. You know, with kids and soccer games and a white picket fence."

He seemed puzzled. "Well," he started, trying to make light of the situation. "I could always steal a child for you, but with all those Amber alerts nowadays it's getting quite a bit trickier." I laughed, rather than having to think about it too deeply. "And I could have a fence put up tomorrow. But since we haven't stolen a child I don't see what we're fencing in." I was laughing again. "And I'm not really all that into little kid soccer games. You know, the whole daylight thing." He had a point there. I had no children and soccer games and picket fences in my future, but it was a lot better than the alternative.

"You know, Mr. Northman? I believe you're right." He then held his tiny dancer closer and kissed me so slowly and perfectly, I never wanted him to stop.

I knew it was coming, but I still laughed when the ubiquitous "oooooooh!" came over the bar, with an applause from the strange love triangle in the corner booth. Pam even yelled with cupped hands, "Get a room!"

Flinging his blonde hair to the side and chuckling, Eric suppressed a laugh and, throwing me over his shoulder like I was a bag of sand, announced, "That's not a bad idea...What do you think, Sookie?"

A little embarrassed, I bit my bottom lip (which when you're being held upside down, turns out it is still your bottom lip) and agreed, "You know…that isn't a bad idea at all." _About time!_ I heard Amelia think at me, and wiggled to see her giving me a thumbs up for what might have been the hundredth time since I'd arrived. "Ladies and gents, thanks for coming, drive safe, and make sure to come back and see us!" My friends all waved goodbye after his brief speech and we were out the door, in the corvette and home by 3:15, with a few good hours of night still ahead of us. Hmmm…however would we fill them?


	6. Empty

Life with Eric had sort of fallen into a pattern over my first few weeks as a vampire. Wake up a couple minutes after dark, find Eric downstairs on a call or texting, have a drink with Eric, head to Fangtasia and hang out with Pam or go to Merlotte's to hang out with Sam, head back home, find Eric there and enjoy the pants off each other for whatever time remained before dawn. It was a strange life, so far from the one I had envisioned for myself, but I found myself loving the consistency. Eric was always going to be there for me, and I for him. Sam and most everyone else at the bar had gotten used to vampire-Sookie, and I had even spoken with Sam about picking up a shift a couple nights a week since I could do everything so much faster now. It was the first thing on my mind when I woke up today, eager to see Sam again and continue our chats about his mom, Arlene's prison cell, and business in general. As usual, I was alone in the bed when I woke, and I rolled over and inhaled Eric's scent off of his pillow. That smell would never get old. Throwing on an itsy-bitsy robe, I sleepily followed that scent downstairs, and with three stairs remaining, I was struck with panic. Eric wasn't here. His shoes, his phone, and his car were here, but not Eric. Something was terribly wrong. I dashed around the house, through the living room, the laundry room, into the kitchen, and back upstairs. Nowhere. Down the stairs again and through the backdoor, and I picked up a fresh scent. And a broken door handle. I sprinted barefoot into the cemetery behind the house, following his scent the best I could, but found that it had stopped somewhere between the back door and the tool shed. I heard the phone ring from inside the house and sprinted in, picking it up on the third ring.

"Hello?" I asked, hoping to God it was Eric.

"Sookie? Sookie?" Pam was whispering into the phone, not giving me a second to respond. "Get out of the house, now!"


	7. Silver Chains & Something Else

I should have listened to Pam. I should have swallowed my pride, ran to Bill's house and admitted that I was in some deep shit then begged for at least his hidey-hole until it all blew over. But I didn't. I ran back upstairs to my room and pulled on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved Fangtasia T-shirt, socks, and the first of my new Chuck Taylors. When the frantic questions in my head cleared away for a fraction of a second, I realized that I was not alone in my home. I could hear muffled sounds from what had been Octavia's bedroom, under the floorboards. The hidey-hole! There were only two people aside from myself who knew about the hidey-hole, and neither of them would dare hurt me. I pulled my second shoe on and tied it with the speed of sound and neatness of a 2nd grader, and darted back downstairs and into Octavia's bedroom, into the closet and with more strength than necessary, pulled up the door to the vampire safe-haven. Instead of Eric or Bill, a smiling young woman lay under the floor boards, with dyed blonde hair, bright red lipstick, and a net made of pure silver.

The next few hours were nothing short of the deepest circle of hell. From the silver net in which the woman had caught me, I screamed out loud to Eric, to Pam, to Sam, Bill and even Quinn, but there was nothing. I screamed to Barry silently, hoping that he was within range. We'd never truly tested how far away he could hear me, and we hadn't spoken since I'd been made vampire. Maybe he couldn't hear me anymore? _Barry! Barry! Please listen! It's me, Sookie and I'm in a big heap of trouble! Barry! Help me! _But nothing. I was being dragged by my hands, which had been tied behind my back in silver chains, and were I still a fragile human, I would have feared that my shoulders would have broken. But I could think of nothing other than the pain of the silver digging into my wrists, which compared to no pain I had ever known in life. How Eric and Bill had maintained their composure while touching silver, I'd never know, because I sure as hell couldn't. "Let me out of this! You don't know what I can do to you!" I screamed at the woman, trying my best to sound scary as she dragged my thrashing body behind her effortlessly. She was laughing. Really truly laughing. Scratch that- she was cackling. I felt my head knock against cement once, twice, three times, and gathered that we were heading upstairs into a very old (and I'm guessing not light-proof) building with a terrible smell and lots of mental chatter. I tried to focus on a few so I could see what I was dealing with. I wasn't dealing with other vampires, that's for sure, and I wasn't dealing with shifters. At least not for the most part. It certainly wasn't the Fellowship of the Sun either, so who was it?

_I told Denise I was through with this late night shit. I'm going to have to sleep on the couch for a week._

_She didn't look all that special to me!_

_God I hope I'm not pregnant. They'd fire me for sure if they knew whose it was._

_Can you use a dead vampire as evidence? _Evidence. So we're dealing with something official, right? I latched on to this brain and followed it as far as I could, and was still listening to its half-formed thoughts when I found myself in a bright room with a desk, a chair that I had been tied on to with the same silver chains, and two men dressed in suits. _This hardly follows protocol, but he said get it no matter what it takes._

"Miss Stackhouse?" Said the shorter and huskier of the men, as the woman that had secured me to the chair left the room, throwing an evil smile behind her. I tried to latch on to her thoughts so I might have a better idea of what's coming, but for the first time since I registered her presence under the floorboards, I remembered that I hadn't once heard her mind. What was she? My hair was grabbed and my head thrown down on the desk in front of me by the taller of the men. "Miss Stackhouse, we're going to try to make this as painless as possible for everyone involved, so we'd sure appreciate it if you just made this easy for us and cooperate." Ordinarily I'd be seeing stars from the intensity of the head bashing, but I was thinking clear. I was thinking that if that guy brought his hand so close to my mouth again, he wouldn't live to see another minute.

"Would you like to tell me why I'm here first?" I asked, bitterly. I am soooo hungry. Just a little nibble would be really helpful right about now.

"I'm sure you've already figured that out by now Miss Stackhouse." The short one said again with a smirk. _Dumbass._ Got it. They're here about the telepathy. And this might just be the FBI. At least I hoped it was. Surely they knew better than to piss off the Sheriff of Area 5's whatever-I-was. Which brought a thought more painful than the silver that tied my hands to this chair. Where was he? Did they already have him?

"If you're here with the Nevada vampires, you're going to have to talk to Eric. I can't help you." I told them, matter-of-factly and doing my best to play dumb. I don't think it worked.

Tall head-basher laughed. "Oh trust me, we're not with the Nevada vampires. And we've already talked to Eric. He wasn't very helpful." _Let's see how helpful he gets right before dawn. _Okay. This was worse than I had imagined. Surely they didn't want a telepath so bad they'd start taking down vampires to get to me. But if I'm thinking correctly, these are the same guys who came up with waterboarding, so giving them that much was probably too much.

"Well why don't you tell me who you are with and what you want with me and then you can let Eric and myself free and maybe we won't come back and kill every single one of you?" I surprised myself with how bad-ass I sounded because I certainly didn't feel it.

Short guy started this time. "That won't be necessary Miss Stackhouse. We just brought you here for a little chat, that's all." The kind of chats I like don't start with hours of torture, but I listened anyway. There wasn't much of a point in ignoring him. His thoughts were drifting towards what I would smell like in the sunlight, so I preferred to listen to his spoken voice. "We have a favor to ask of you."

"You could have just asked. You didn't have to drag me down here in a silver net like some terrorist."

"We've been trying that, Miss Stackhouse. But your Mr. Northman has found ways of preventing this little chat." Okay. Now I'm listening. "So we took care of him. If you cooperate with us and do so quickly, we'll even put him inside before the sun comes up." These people were monsters with FBI badges. They might as well have been FOTS members. "That gives us just over three hours, Miss Stackhouse."

"Then why don't you get to the point?" I nearly spat the words out, I was so angry. Torturing me was one thing, but grabbing Eric first was something else entirely.

The tall one pulled up a chair in front of me and threw a plain black briefcase on the table before me. He punched a code into the lock on it and it swung open. He did have to think about it, and I pulled the numbers out of his head and saved it for later. From the briefcase he pulled out a giant folder with my name on it. His mind told me that it had everything from early psychologists' reports (when they told me my telepathy was just a 'learning disability') to my medical files from only a few weeks ago, my death certificate and a copy of my vampire registration card. He finally opened the folder and on top lay a curious envelope addressed to Eric in perfect cursive in a golden ink. "Would you like to explain this letter Miss Stackhouse?"

I was dumbfounded. Telepath, yes, psychic, no. "I'm not sure that I can. It's not mine." Tall one pulled the letter out of the envelope which he had obviously taken the liberty of opening. I felt like reminding him that it was a federal crime to open someone else's mail, but something tells me he already knew that. As he pulled it out of the envelope, the light on the desk revealed a perfect invitation; one that could have easily passed for a graduation open house had it not said "from the Vampire queen of England" right at the top.

"It's an invitation to a vampire conference in London, Miss Stackhouse." This was all news to me. Perhaps if they hadn't been going through my mailbox I would have known about this earlier. "And I'm going to be frank with you. We need someone in there. We need to know everything that is going on in that room."

"We'll you've got the invitation. You're already a few steps farther than me. Probably a couple steps farther than Eric, too!" I wiggled my wrists and winced as the silver dug in deeper. I could feel blood dripping down my wrists and hear it dropping onto the floor. During the second and a half it took me to close my eyes and gather myself, the woman with red lipstick and bleach-blonde hair that had kicked my vampire-ass had walked into the room and was leaning against the door frame, inspecting her fingernails. My pain subsided as my fascination peaked; I had no idea what she was. She was stronger than a human, didn't think like humans (or didn't think at all) and looked absolutely lethal. In two giant steps she had crossed the floor and jumped onto the desk and crouched in front of me. Making sure she had my full concentration, she smiled a very evil smile and with a few very sharp upper teeth, tore open her wrist and showed it to me. My instinct was to lean forward and drink from her to replace the blood she had drawn from me with silver chains, but it smelled all wrong. Half a second after the smell hit me, a thick, dark green liquid rose to the surface and dripped four drops on the table, and then healed itself faster than any vampire's wound could heal. The drops that had hit the table were starting to sizzle and within a few more seconds, had burned through the table entirely, filling the room with a variety of smells from burning wood to acid, and I threw my legs to the side quickly to avoid the drops falling through the table. They landed on the cement floor below me and kept sizzling, but grew quiet with time.

"What are you?" I asked, horrified more than interested. She smiled something sinister and cackled once again.

"This is Malia." The shorter one said, trying to sound official but was five different kinds of scared. "And you're going to do exactly what we tell you to do, and we might not set her on you."


	8. Not Barry

It was clear that they thought threatening me with this Malia thing would make me say all there was to know about a vampire convention I'd never heard of. So I wasn't all that surprised when I found myself thrown in a bare room that would have made prison cells look like the Ritz shortly afterwards. I wasted no time trying to call out to Barry, kicking myself for not testing whether he could still hear the vampire version of Sookie before I'd found myself in a pickle.

"Barry! Barry!" I was screaming as loud as I could without actually opening my mouth. Then I felt something coming, sort of like when you tune a radio and just have a feeling that there's a good song coming if you just turn a little bit farther…

When I was finally able to tune in, the sound I heard nearly broke my heart. "Aunt Sookie?" The voice was soft, but I'd know it anywhere. "Where are you?"

Hunter, my cousin (twice deceased) Hadley's son was also a telepath. He was also five years old. He was the last person I could bring in to this. If the F.B.I. had given me grief over being a telepath, it was likely that Remy, Hunter's dad would find his son missing one night in the name of national security. Nope. I would not bring Hunter into this. I kept reaching out to Barry, but he didn't hear me. At least he wasn't acting like he could hear me if he could, but I was pretty darn sure I'd know if he was trying to ignore me. I kept listening out for anything, while trying to block Hunter's sweet little voice out to stop myself from answering. A five year old, telepathic or not, was not going to be much use.

But Remy would be.

"Hunter? Sweetheart?" Even my inner voice was panicky. "Is your daddy there?"

"Where are you Aunt Sookie?" He begged.

"Hunter, I need you to go and get your daddy and tell him everything I say to you, can you do that?" Dawn was coming, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. I didn't know how long this would take.

It took another minute or two, but I caught glimpses from Hunter's eyes of a very sleepy Remy swatting Hunter away from his bedside like one would swat at a fly honing in on a picnic. I tried to turn that part of my telepathy off, but Hunter was very visual about his dad's threadbare boxer shorts covered with large-mouth bass donning Santa hats. "Hunter, can you tell your daddy you have a very important message from Aunt Sookie and she needs his help immediately?"I saw Remy jerk suddenly when he heard his son say my name. I figured I'd continue. "I need you to go get a piece of paper and a pen and I have some stuff to tell your dad." I followed Hunter's eyes through the small bungalow, which was dramatically messier now that Remy's girlfriend had left. Eventually he found paper and a pen and turned back to return to Remy's bedroom, but instead found his father in the kitchen wearing a Corona robe and reaching for the pen and paper. "Okay. Good job sweetheart. Now I just need you to repeat every word I say and tell me if your daddy asks a question. But we don't have a lot of time, so you have to keep up with me, okay?" I could tell that he was getting nervous, so I tried harder to keep my voice calm.

"Call Fangtasia in Shreveport and leave a message for Pam. Tell her that I don't know where I am, but Eric is with me. I don't know if he is safe or not. We're in an old warehouse and it was a couple hours away from my house, but I don't know which direction. I'm being held by the F.B.I. and they want to know about a vampire conference and we don't know anything. They have something called Malia, and they need to find out what she is. She's dangerous."

Hunter then relayed a question from Remy. "So we just need to call Pam? Should we call the cops or something?"

"They're not going to be very helpful." I was so tired, I could feel the dawn coming up. "Especially since it's the F.B.I. that's holding us here. Just call Pam and leave that message," my thoughts were slowing down, my eyes were closing, "and remember to never, ever tell…"

And then the dawn came.


	9. Great Escape

I woke the next night to the sound of Eric's voice. I would have preferred it to be coming from his side of the bed, or down in the kitchen talking to Pam or Chow, but it came from the other room, and he kept repeating, "I can't help you if I don't know about the meeting." They were questioning him, which meant that he had found sufficient cover for the day and was still alive. For a little while at least. I heard a slurping sound and turn my head left to see Malia crouched outside the bars, looking in at me as if she planned on eating me for dinner. She was licking thin, red lips that were parted to reveal teeth so sharp and pointed they could give a vampire's blood run cold. She was hungry, but the ache inside me reminded me that I was starving. New vampires tend to eat several times a night, and I hadn't eaten in a few days. I wouldn't last too much longer if the FBI didn't get the answers they wanted, and soon.

I wanted to call out to Hunter again and see if I could talk through him to Remy, but I was certain that Malia would notice my strained face as I tried to focus on the silent conversation. I would have to wait until she left for some more battery acid or whatever it is that she ate. I called out to Barry, hiding my face in my hands as I crouched down against the wall, as far away from Malia as possible. Still nothing. I sat in silence, waiting, listening. I was starting to tune in the previously silent Malia, and what I was receiving was not a language I had ever heard before. I wouldn't even call it a language in all honesty, but a series of beeps like you'd hear in a dying patient's room in a hospital. I would think about her beeps later, so I kept expanding outwards. More static and useless snippets came before I found the room in which they were questioning Eric. The same two men were there that had questioned me, one of them thinking that he'd love to turn in his beer-gut for Eric's perfectly cut abs, and a third stood a few feet away, studying Eric's body language. He was mentally kicking himself; he hadn't predicted the failure of the lie detector test to Eric's lack of pulse. Now he had been reduced to studying body language that had been set in stone over a thousand years ago. He was stumped. There was a fourth in the room, and while I couldn't make out words, I could feel sadness, fear and guilt. This one was Eric. Then, innovation.

"Since I can't help you with information, why don't you tell me what I can do? You're wanting information on the convention, then I will go to the convention and get you information. But I'm going to need help."

He must have been glamouring for all he was worth, because it actually worked. "It's not necessarily information we need from you, Mr. Northman, but action." The silent one from the corner spoke. He was giving up trying to read Eric's body language and listening now for vocal hints. "We have reason to believe that a Fellowship of the Sun splinter group may be trying to infiltrate the convention and repeat what happened in Rhodes." Now I know why they brought me here. I had seen and survived the Rhodes catastrophe before Eric had turned me, and Barry and I were able to save a lot of people by joining hands and searching for their thoughts. I also had more experience with the Fellowship of the Sun than I cared to say, and the thought of another run in made me so angry I could spit.

"So we go to this convention and look out for Fellowship members?" Eric said, bored.

"We? Who exactly is "we", Mr. Northman?" The man said again.

"My constituents and I. I would not take on such a task alone." They were lapping up every word. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to release Miss Stackhouse and myself, and any other vampires you are holding here, regardless of reason. You're then going to charter a plane to take Miss Stackhouse, myself, and two others to this convention. An armed agent will be on the plane with us to ensure our safe arrival, and your agents will be looking around the building for Fellowship members, staying out of the actual convention unless summoned by one of my people. Then I will be paid fifty thousand dollars for my services and Miss Stackhouse and I will never be contacted again by your agency. Is this clear?" The three men agreed simultaneously and I could see through the tall man's eyes as he pulled out the keys to the silver handcuffs Eric wore from his pocket. Moments later, Eric was free, and shortly afterwards, I was too. I had no idea how Eric was able to make these things happen, but I was sure glad he was.

"Sookie, my love, I was so worried. Are you all right?" Eric said, his big hands cupping my face. He planted his lips gently on my forehead and hungry and scared as I was, I closed my eyes to enjoy it. I felt a tear escape my right eye, and I wiped it away as quickly as I could.

"I'm fine." I choked out. " I'm so glad they didn't kill you." I had never been so glad to see him in either of my lives. "Can we go home now?" I didn't think I could make it by myself, and I hated to ask for help. I knew he would do anything for me, but I still felt a little embarrassed to ask. Thanks to the blood bond, I didn't have to. Before I could finish another thought, Eric had thrown me over his shoulder and was walking away from the warehouse.


	10. Safe Again

The trip home was blank to me. I couldn't tell you how exactly Eric had gotten me home if my un-life depended on it, but only minutes before dawn he lay me down on my bed like he had before he turned me, and with one of his arms under my neck and his other wrist at his mouth, he tore open his wrist and pressed it to my lips. His blood dripping down my throat was like warm velvet oozing down, and I felt stronger every second for it. "Eric," I tried without my lips leaving his wrist and the beautiful blood that flowed from it.

"Don't speak, my love. You're safe again." Whether I was truly safe or not, I believed Eric. I always did.

The next evening was like nothing had ever happened. I woke up on my own side of the bed, with Eric's shape still lingering in the sheets beside me, and I could hear him downstairs moving around. I heard another voice I recognized, and leapt out of bed immediately. "Chow and I searched within a 3 hour area of this house, and we found nothing. Well, that's not entirely true, but nothing that could have led us in the right direction. No scent, no tracks, no"

"Pam!" I was half a second away from jumping on my friend with a big bear-hug, but her "touch this outfit and I will kill you" look stopped me dead in my tracks. She scanned my own outfit, the jean and t-shirt set I was wearing when I was abducted from the house, now with blood and mud stains and heaven knows what else. In short, I reeked. I started backwards up the stairs immediately, "you're right, I'll just go shower real fast and I'll be down in a few. I'm sure you and Eric have lots to talk about." I saw Eric reach his long arm in my direction holding a glass of warm blood, and I grabbed at it before I retreated upstairs to the kingdom of my bathroom. Mmm…real blood this time.

The blood was gone before I got to the top of the stairs, and by the time I had closed the bedroom door behind and pulled my t-shirt up over my head and into the dirty clothes hamper, a little pink had found its way into my cheeks. I turned on the shower and tore off my Chuck Taylors and jeans and kicked them off to the side before stepping in to the warm shower, letting the past few days days of dirt, dust and grime work itself out of my hair and spiral down the drain. When I felt sufficiently clean and scrubbed, and was pretty sure that someone was sitting on the bed waiting for me, I wrapped the towel around loosely myself and threw the door open, releasing a room full of steam into what used to be Adele Stackhouse's bedroom. I gave my wet hair a flip that had intended to be seductive but turned out sloppy and... "well hello Sookie. Somehow I don't think that was intended for me."

"Pam!" I grabbed the towel around me and tried to turn the small rectangle in to something the size of a tent. Or a parachute. "What are you doing in my room?!"

"Oh please, Sookie. It's not like I've never seen a naked woman before." Pam was true to her usual form and incredibly cool about her near-seduction. "Eric sent me up here to ask if you needed anything. He's gone out for the night." Of course he had. I had a million and one questions for him and he chose tonight of all nights to duck out when I was in the shower. Oh well. He had to come home sometime.

"No, I think I'll be fine, Pam. If you could just have Eric call me when he gets a chance so I know what's going on…I'm still a little shaken up from the past few nights." And with that, Pam gracefully stood up, turned on a satin pink pump, and left. I returned to the bathroom with the towel wrapped around me so tight I'd suffocate if I were still breathing, and started to dry my hair, hoping the hum of the hairdryer would keep my mind from wandering. It didn't, and I put on one of the little black nightgowns Eric had bought for me during my three nights underground, and headed downstairs for another drink. I expected to find the chairs scattered around the kitchen and perhaps an empty bottle of True Blood or two, which is the usual after a surprise visit from Pam, but Eric had the decency to clean up before he dashed, and I found a corked bottle of Burgundy Royale in the refrigerator. I poured myself a big tumbler and set it in the microwave for a minute, re-corking the bottle and putting it back in the fridge. For the first time since my new life had started, I felt tired. I leaned against the counter next to the microwave and waited for the blood to warm up, and then leaned my head to the side and rested it against the fridge. My head was spinning with everything from this convention I knew nothing about to the thoughts that were going through the agents' heads, to the beeping that went on in Malia's mind. What beeps when it thinks? She surely wasn't a robot…was she? My brain made the jump from Malia to Austin Power's fem-bots with machine gun breasts, and I gave a little snort at the direction my thoughts had taken me. The microwave chimed and saved me from my thoughts, and I collapsed into a chair with the drink in my hand. The first glass of blood of the evening had mostly satisfied me, and I was able to just sip at this second glass while I stared blankly ahead. I hadn't even noticed the back door creaking open and a short brunette with ringlets walking in and peeking into the kitchen.

"Earth to Sookmonster!" Amelia beamed, and I jumped a little in my seat. "Oh seriously?" She laughed, "did I just SCARE a vampire?" She put her Gucci bag on the stairs and then pranced over to my chair and gave me a big hug. Amelia was a little too brave for her own good, especially when she stuck her jugular this close to a new vampire's mouth. As long as she only did it with me though, she'd probably be just fine. She then pulled out the chair next to me and plopped herself down and began to wiggle off her high heels. "So you're okay, right?" She adopted a much more serious tone as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I didn't even know you were in trouble until Pam came over two nights ago with Chow. She didn't really know what was going on, but Eric told me tonight before you were awake. I'm so sorry I didn't help."

"Amelia, it's fine. We both made it home and once I talk to Eric and figure out how the hell he got us out of there, all will be fine again." She didn't seem convinced, and I saw her thought process as she tried to add up all of the clues while pouring herself a glass of merlot to match my glass of blood. "Did anything happen here while I was gone?" I tried to change the subject before her thoughts wandered too far.

She shrugged, her back to me as she re-corked the bottle. "A few calls. I wrote them down for you. Mostly just Sam and this one little kid named," she paused, trying to remember.

"Hunter."

"Yep. That's the one. And a couple of Eric's guys tried him here when he wasn't answering his cell phone. But not a whole lot." I was halfway expecting Amelia to dash over to her room after relaying the messages on to me, but she didn't. We hadn't had a proper girl-talk since I had turned, and I guess she was in the talking mood tonight. And after a few minutes, it turned out that I was too. Over the next few hours we covered everything from work (boring), Dawson (is doing something different with his hair), Merlottes (is having a hard time with the waitress they hired to replace me) and just about everything else that there was to be talked about in Bon Temps. It also turns out that Amelia had been talking to some old friends in New Orleans, and her old apartment building would be done any day now, which meant that she would be moving home soon. I loved Amelia dearly, and loved her compulsive cleaning, but it hadn't been the same since Eric became a full-time thing. That, and me no longer being able to be awake before the sun went down.

After her fourth glass of wine, Amelia gave way to a big yarn and then glanced over to the clock beside the refrigerator. "Oh snap- it's after one!" She exclaimed, jumping up and collecting her shoes from the floor. "I've got to be at work tomorrow at 8:30! G'night Sookie!" She bounced over to her room behind the living room (she had moved downstairs after Octavia had vacated her room in efforts to get away from the all-night noisy vampire sex) and shut the door behind her. I heard the sink running a minute later, and I decided the rest of the night would best be spent curled up in bed with my book, which I had barely touched since I had turned. Turns out that reading doesn't apply as one of those things you can suddenly do super-fast once you turn vampire. I curled up under the satin sheets with Montenegro and his quivering member and got about three pages in before hurling it across the room and leaving a sizable dent in the wall. I wanted Eric. I wanted him now. I wanted him to tell me everything that he's been trying so hard to avoid telling me, and I want everything to really truly be okay. My head started pounding and I threw myself face-first into my pillow and started to cry.


	11. A Proposal of Sorts

Eric didn't come home that night. Or the next night. The night after that, I decided to go to Fangtasia looking for him, but had no such luck. Pam said that he had called and left a message while she was still asleep, but she was under strict instructions not to say anything to me that would give away his whereabouts. Just that he was okay and I'd see him soon. So I sat at the bar for a couple hours with Pam and nursed a True Blood, quickly growing cold and wishing that I could still drink alcohol. I'd kill for a good beer buzz right now. After most of the fangbangers had called it a night (they were so interesting to watch) I decided to do the same and perhaps run the vacuum through the main floor- I couldn't remember the last time I'd done that. I gave Pam air kisses and waved to Chow and Thalia, the only remaining vampires I knew by name, and dug through my new D&G bag (gift from Eric and Pam) looking for the keys to Eric's corvette, which I had driven to Shreveport because I was angry with him and couldn't think of anything meaner than to mess up his seat settings and change the radio stations. That, and leave the gas tank on empty. I took the long way home.

I maybe had two complete thoughts on the way home, which only made me angry as they interrupted first the Styx and then Alabama on the radio, but I returned home to find the lights on and a tall blonde man pacing around the kitchen, his cell phone glued to his ear and his voice raised slightly louder than normal. I was truthfully a little afraid of what I was about to walk in to, but this was my home, and Eric had some explaining to do. I put his car in park behind the house, and climbed up and out of the low seat, causing the security lights to turn on as I opened the door of the car and made my way to the back door. I saw my own pale arm in the washed-out light behind my house, and was a little mesmerized by how quickly I had started to adopt the stereotypical paleness that eventually catches up with all vampires, no matter how dark or tanned their skin had been in life. That thought left my mind as quickly as it had entered, and I continued up the small gravel path to the house. By the time I had opened the door, Eric had ended his angry conversation and was sitting at the table with a small deep green box in front of him on the kitchen table. I tried my best to ignore and put on my best fight-face. He read it as my best attempt, and put his large hands on the table, fully hiding the box underneath, and lowering his face, waiting for all of hell to break loose. He'd done this before.

"I'm not going to yell." I told him, as nicely and as justly as I could. I wasn't entirely convinced of this myself, but I was trying my best to be the good one here.

"You should." He said, head still down. For a tall, strong and very intimidating ex-Viking, he was looking an awful lot like a puppy that he left a mess on a rug.

I wasn't expecting this at all. "Yes, I probably should. But I'm going to sit down and we're going to talk. And then we're going to talk some more. And then you're not going to leave tonight." Boy- when did I get so pushy? He looked at me in the face, halfway confused and halfway looking like he has escaped the guillotine by a fraction of an inch. I tried my best to stay calm, but my temper had become even harder to suppress than my hunger since he had turned me.

"Ask away." He sank back in his chair and his hands left the green box, which was looking rather like a box that would be holding something small and sparkly. He wasn't getting off that easy.

"Eric, I don't know where to start." I began, and twiddled my thumbs like I was the one in trouble. "Where were you?"

"In London," he said, as though I should have known that. "And then a night in Uppsala." I must have had a strange look on my face, because he added, "that's where I was born, in Sweden. I went to London first to learn more about this conference in a place where I would not be recognized, and then I went to Sweden to try to persuade other vampires like me to attend this conference and represent Scandinavia, which has not been sufficiently represented for many decades in conventions such as this."

"You could have at least told me where you were going, or answered your phone, or left a note…" I rambled on a little more and he waited until I had run out of things to say.

He acted as though he wasn't sure how to phrase his next words. "I made a deal with the people that took us this week. They want me to do something for them at this convention in London, and my part of the deal was that you only know what you need to know and only attend what is necessary. I did not see a reason to danger you unnecessarily."

"Wait a minute there. You're not going to tell me what I'm doing from now on?!"

"Yes. I know you won't like this, but the best way to keep you safe is to keep you oblivious. You won't know what we're doing until we do it and that's the best way to keep you out of harm's way." He looked terrible, like this thought had tortured him for years instead of a few days.

I was showing my anger now. "Really Eric? You think a VAMPIRE can't protect herself?"

"You didn't do such a great job the other day!" He retorted, and it hit hard. So I picked up a vase from the table and threw it with all my vampire-strength, cutting his face open across his cheek.

I gasped, just now realizing that I had actually thrown an antique vase at my boyfriend and cut his face open. This was too Jerry Springer, even for me. "I'm sorry." I said softly, and was surprised to hear his voice uttering an apology to me after I hit him in the face. He pulled a piece of broken glass out of his face, and the gash was already on its way to healed. You could really only hurt Eric for a minute.

"I'm sorry." He started again. "I was doing it to protect you and Hunter and that other telepath that's working for the Dallas vampires."

"Barry." I reminded him.

"Yes, Barry. If you really want to know, then I will tell you. But I told them I'd bring you and Pam to the conference in London and you would report anything suspicious to me, then I would relay that information to FBI agents that would be outside the conference. That is your only responsibility."

"You're taking me to London?" I'd never even left the South, not to mention the country. London was a whole other world to me. "But what do I wear?"

"Pam is going to take you shopping once we get there. All of the major stores and tourist attractions are going to be open during night hours for the duration of the convention."

Any anger I might have been harboring two seconds before this had totally been lifted, and I jumped on Eric and wrapped my legs around him so tight I'd have killed him if he weren't already dead. I kissed him once and then wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed him in. "I missed you so much." His hand made its way to my hair and his fingers traced my curls. "I thought you had left for good." I confessed, and he turned and kissed my forehead softly.

"Never. I've waited a thousand years for you, and if you'll have me, I'd like to spend the rest of forever with you."

Eric may have been in the doghouse five minutes ago, but he right now he was too perfect for words. "This doesn't have anything to do with that little green box there, does it?"I pulled my face out from his neck and put my nose right to his, looking very deeply into those beautiful blue eyes.

"Not if you don't want it to."

"Then it doesn't." I kissed him lightly on the lips. "At least not tonight."

Then, that little wicked smile I loved so much. "Shall we go upstairs?" he asked, most suggestively.

"Mr. Northman," I began, "I thought you'd never ask."


	12. Crouching Tiger, Angry Vampire

The next few nights of life in Bon Temps, Louisiana passed mostly like they had before the invitation arrived and Eric and I were torn from the house, questioned and tortured. Eric spent a few hours of nearly every night at Fangtasia making sure things would be taken care of while we were at the conference, and he had even brought in a vampire accountant to help out Chow with the financial aspects of running a business for the duration of our time in London. I worked on the house and tried to repair the damages Malia and the agents had made when they took first Eric and then me from the house, kicking and screaming all the way. I'd even been to Merlotte's a couple times to hang out with Sam and Tara, and Eric had even joined me for one of them. Tara, who had been "Team Eric" since he had taken care of her little problem known as "Mickey" shared a booth with us and even brought her relatively new husband, J.B. DuRone. Tara was nearly four months pregnant and just starting to look a little bit like she was smuggling a watermelon under her shirt. J.B. was still very nervous around me, and absolutely terrified of Eric, but working very hard to not show it. We had been talking about the conference for a while, and Eric had been explaining what I should expect, at least according to the last one he attended in 1940. His move to America in the 1850's had complicated his European and Scandinavian travels in the days before vampire Airlines.

"So London, huh?" J.B. said, and scrambled to come up with something else to say. J.B. was one of the nicest men you'd ever meet, but he was no Einstein. Tara, sensing his loss off words, jumped in for the save.

"So what are you going to wear?" Normally this would be the time for her to shamelessly plug her shop, Tara's Togs, but Eric and I were already more than familiar. We were her best customers.

Eric jumped in with an answer for this one, "The vampires attending the conference wear typical business attire, but the vampires attending the ball afterwards generally wear traditional clothing from the countries in which they live." This was news to me, and I thought hard about what that would mean I was wearing. Daisy Dukes? Wife-beaters? Those were very Southern… "I promised Pam I'd let her take Sookie out shopping before the conference." This was excellent news for me, since Pam had more than a hundred years of fashion knowledge on me. She was the kind of girl that could wear a garbage bag with a belt and end up in _VVogue_, or _Vampire Vogue_ magazine.

Tara, who was as fashion-forward as Northern Louisiana gets, was very jealous. She was trying to control her thoughts and keep them as happy as possible, but pregnancy was doing nothing for her temper. "Don't worry Tara," I interrupted her chain of thought, "I'll bring you back something!" She wordlessly hinted at something for the baby, while simultaneously thinking about a new pair of shoes in size 7 ½. "I'll see what I can do." J.B. was finally making the connection that Tara was telling me something that she didn't want to say out loud, and, bless him, he started to wonder if the telepathy rumor was true. Like I said, a couple fries short of a happy-meal.

I could sense that Eric was itching to leave: he never socialized with humans outside of work, and this was boring him to near-tears. He checked his Blackberry every twelve seconds, waiting for an excuse to jump up and leave. "Well, we've got some packing to do." I broke the silence that was starting to grow awkward.

"Okay then." Tara nodded, she understood, because J.B. was also more than ready to leave the company of vampires. "Well, call me when you get back. Wish I could go with you." She said, returning to her best-friend-since-forever tone. It would be weird seeing her grow old and not growing old with her. We'd always joked we'd be roomies in the nursing home, but that was clearly never going to happen. It was a weird thought that I'd still be around and still be 26 when she, and Sam, and my brother and his friends all grew old and died. It broke my heart a bit to even think about it.

"Race you home?" Eric grinned- we'd started doing this over short distances to see how fast he could fly and I could drive.

"Can you at least wait until I turn the engine on this time?" I faux-whined. I'd blamed my last three losses on his head start.

"I'm waiting…" I loved that man to pieces, but he was quite possibly the most impatient thing- alive or dead- on this planet. I jumped in the corvette and the engine roared to life, and Eric started running towards the exit of the parking lot, and after about fifteen lightning steps, he clumsily lifted off and started gaining height and settled into the sky a few feet above the tree line. I threw the car into second and with a bump-bump, it lurched towards the same route Eric had taken. I could feel him above and slightly ahead of me until I turned onto Hummingbird Road, and then I felt him veer left and take a more direct route to the house. I had worked the car into sixth gear by now, and was close to hitting 120 before I had to slow down a bit for the curve in the road. I would survive the crash, but Eric's little red corvette wouldn't. I took it down to fourth for the curve and then fifth and back to sixth, and then reached out for Eric's presence. I was winning! With two miles left of Hummingbird Road before the turn-off into my long, newly-concreted driveway (thanks to Eric's attempts at "courting" a few months ago) I let the speedometer get up to 175, and less than a minute later, slowed down to a near-halt and flew into the driveway, drove up behind the house and threw on the parking break, turned off the engine and jumped out of the driver's seat, closed the door behind me and leaned on it as though I'd been waiting for hours. Eric appeared above the tree line only two or three seconds later and then slowed down, and prepared for landing. He had many different ways of lifting off, but landing was always the same, he turned his body so he looked like he was simply standing in air, and then gently sunk down in the air until his feet touched the earth so gently, you would have no idea he had only seconds before that had been racing through the sky.

But it didn't work like that this time. With three feet left before his landing, a deep growl came from the woods at the side of the house, and Eric dropped suddenly, landing on his back as a naked man jumped horizontally from the woods, and landed on Eric, a tiger.

Eric threw up his arm to block his face and screamed "Get in the house!" in my direction, trying to kick the tiger off of him and choke it at the same time. Thinking quickly, I ran inside and in to my room and opened up the ballerina jewelry box that Gran had been given as a wedding present. I pulled a tank top out of the top drawer, and making sure my hand was covered, grabbed a silver necklace off the top. I had once worn this to protect myself against unwanted vampire attention, and taking care not to touch myself with the chain, I dashed down the stairs and out the door to find Eric struggling to his feet, his hands prying open a tiger's jaws. Blood was dripping down his hands and I felt my knees wobble as the smell reached my nose. _Stay strong_ I told myself, with one bare hand, I grabbed one end of that long silver chain and leapt onto the tiger, lacing the chain around his neck while trying my best to ignore my own pain, and gave the silver a firm tug, and watched as the tiger struggled on his back legs to stay standing, and Eric was able to throw down the tiger once a for all, slamming its head into the ground. I dropped the silver a fraction of a second later, and stretched my hands towards Eric, gasping in pain as my hands bled, I felt Eric's strong hands take mine and pull them to his face. He gently kissed each palm, his cool lips leaving patches suddenly free of any pain. "Thank you." He said sweetly, looking down at me through those cold blue eyes.

My palms were already starting to heal, and while I hated to ruin the moment, it had to be said. "What do we do with the tiger?"

"Would you like me to take care of this?" He asked, coolly.

I knew what _taking care of_ meant, so I declined his offer. We looked over at the tiger to see that he had been knocked out cold by the blow to the head, and had changed back into a naked man. Quinn, the were-tiger, was a once-lover of mine, and a great foe of Eric's. This was not the first time he had surprised me with such a visit, but it was the first time he had actually tried to kill Eric. "You know," I told him, "I'll take care of it." I gave Eric a little wink, and he smiled that smile that he had when he was up to something no good. "Why don't you go pack?"

"I'll be right inside if you need anything." He said, stepping towards the door. "Don't be too long."

"Oh trust me- this won't take long at all."

It took Quinn a couple minutes to wake up- which must have meant that Eric had thrown his down a lot harder than it looked like he did- shifters heal very quickly and when they get knocked out, it's generally only for a second or two. "Good evening, Quinn." I flipped my hair back suggestively. "How nice of you to drop in on me like that." I really hoped Eric hadn't knocked him too silly to understand that he was about as wanted here as a field of garlic.

"Sookie, babe…" He started, but just stopped speaking as his eyes took me in, starting at my high-heeled feet to my highlighted curls, but focusing on my newly-attained pallor. His thoughts went from angry, to jealous, and then to furious. "What did he do to you?!" He jumped up, totally ignoring his nudity, and started yelling, "what the hell is so good about a dead guy? What, am I not good enough for you? And you can't just fuck him, you have to let him kill you, too?"

"Quinn, please," I said softly, but he continued with the accusations. "Quinn, you don't understand," and he ignored me once again. Instead of trying a third time to soothe the tiger, I found myself with my hand around his throat, holding up against my house, nearly a foot off the ground. "Quinn. We're over. We've been over for quite a while. You had bigger priorities in your life than me, and that's fine. But you have to move on. This isn't healthy." Nor was the strangulation he was seconds away from suffering, so I dropped my arm. He landed clumsily, and clutching his own throat to check for damage, he spoke hoarsely.

"But he killed you. You _let _him kill you." He was thoroughly perplexed.

I tried to stay strong, but thinking about my end was still a painful memory. Not because of how it was done, but why. "I was dying, Quinn. I didn't have a choice." This was apparently news to the naked Were that was leaning up against my house. "I had cancer, and they found it too late. The only way I was going to make it was as a vampire, so here I am. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, but that's just the way things are not. I'm sorry, Quinn."

His fury had shifted into something more serious, and he looked damaged by my words. "Babe…" was all he could manage.

"I've got to go, Quinn. Eric and I are leaving for London tomorrow- I need to pack." He nodded morosely, and knew he was done here. He started to turn back towards the woods where he had presumably left his clothes. "Oh! One more thing!" I yelled after him. "Call next time!"


	13. The Kitchen Floor

Eric had arranged for us to be picked up shortly before dawn, and driven to the small Shreveport airport where an Anubis airplane had been hired for ours and Pam's use. While the plane had compartments (one light-tight and full of travel-coffins, the other like a normal passenger plane with windows and seats) we still had to get to sleep fairly soon after arriving to avoid getting weak, and in Eric's case, very grumpy. But that wasn't for a couple more hours, and since we had packed very quickly, we had some time to just relax.

Amelia was in New Orleans with her mother, and Pam was meeting us at the airport. I had cracked open a new book (I was trying to read very English things for our trip to London, and was starting with Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_) and was just getting to the arrogant Mr. Darcy, when a tall blonde man with six-pack abs and an amazing ass walked through the kitchen, stark naked. Goodbye Jane Austen, hello bedroom. I threw down my book- okay, I carefully placed a bookmark in it, and then put it gently beside me on the couch, and in four very fast steps, tackled a naked Eric in the kitchen, bringing us both down to the linoleum floor, his mouth finding my own in record time. His hands started fumbling with the dress I had worn to Merlotte's, it was new, and a wrap dress with a bow on the side, and he'd never had the chance to remove it before. Finally he lost his patience and began to tear it off, and not wanting to lose another dress to his impatience in the bedroom- or kitchen floor, I untied it for him at the side and let him do the honors of fully undressing me. His big, strong hands started unwrapping the dress, his hands making their way across my stomach and back, and he gently pulled me on top of him, and as I straddled his stomach, those hands worked their way up to my breasts, caressing the lacy bra softly, and gently climbing northward, reaching for my shoulders to slip off the dress. The dress fell backward and over his penis, creating a rather large tent behind me, and I stood up slowly, standing over him, and took off that black lacy bra and he settled in to a most observant position with his arms folded and behind his head like a pillow. I took that to mean that he wouldn't be doing much of the work tonight, and I was just fine with that. I tossed the bra onto his chest, and then begun sliding the panties down my legs, very slowly, and making sure he was watching every second of it. I finally stepped out of them, and giving them a little kick with my right foot, the naughty lace black panties found themselves hanging over a lampshade, creating lacy shadows all over the kitchen. I got down on my hands and my knees over Eric, and pressed my lips gently to his. I felt his very adequate penis trembling on my inner thigh, so I reached under me and gave it a little squeeze as I made my way down his neck and chest with kisses. I spent a little extra time on his nipples, first letting my long hair brush over them teasingly, and then offering each one a small bite. Eric let out a soft moan and I looked up at him with a naughty smile to see that his fangs had made an appearance, and I kept heading South on Mr. Northman. He seemed to enjoy it when I brushed his body gently with my hair, and he rocked his hips back to alert me that my attention was needed elsewhere. I scooted downwards, and firmly wrapped my hands around his muscular thighs, and starting at the bottom of his shaft, ran my tongue upwards as he let out another moan. His moan set my fangs into action, and I put as much of him in my mouth as I could, and kept working my tongue as I moved my head up and down, my teeth tracing the shape of his penis as gently as I could. He added a little pelvis motion, and I gripped his thighs more firmly, digging my nails into him and drawing a few drops of blood. This set him over the edge, and he gave a third moan. "Lover, I need you now." He softly demanded, and he sat up quickly, supporting himself with one arm and lowering me on to him with the other arm. I let out a small gasp and he entered me, and he started lifting and dropping his pelvis, slowly, as his lips left trails of kisses starting at my neck and working his way down to my breast, then pulling me closer to him and speeding up his thrusting, returning deeper and deeper each time, I felt his fangs resting on my breast, poised. His lips paused, as if asking permission, which I granted.

"Go for it." I said softly, riding the undulating waves his pelvis was sending upwards, and I felt his fangs sink in to my breast. The penetration was intense, and only added to the pleasure that was taking place between my legs, and I couldn't help but scream out, "Yes!" a few times as Eric drank from my breast. He only took a little of my blood before he slammed me onto the kitchen floor, and pulling one of my legs up beside him as he shifted so that he was now on top of me, he reached in deeper with each thrust until I was screaming "yes! Harder!" for all I was worth. Eric laughed at this and slowed down the thrusting, but speeding up at the second of entry, slamming his penis hard into me. Riding Eric was like riding a very intimate mechanical bull with no clothes on, and I thanked my stars that I didn't have to be sore the next day like I would have before he had turned me. He sensed that I was coming close (for the third time) and pulled me close to him for his final thrusts, and finished us both off at the same time, his orgasm was nearly strong enough to knock me clean off of him. I tried to get my hair put back together in a way that made sense, our little rodeo-session had given me the worst sex-head either of us had ever seen, and I pulled myself off of Eric and we lay down together on the kitchen floor. He had partially resumed his original position on the floor, with one arm arranged behind his head as a pillow, the other inviting me next to him for a kitchen floor cuddle. I accepted that invitation, and lay down next to him, turned towards him with my head in the soft nook of his shoulder. "That was amazing." To be honest, there were no words for the pleasure he had just given me, I'd been shagged speechless.

"I think I can do better next time." He nodded slightly, then turned and kissed me gently on the forehead. "Howabout five minutes from now?"

"Perhaps we should migrate to the bedroom? We wouldn't want someone else to walk in on that- it might be more than they can handle." I joked, and settled back in to the nook. But it was too late. As we lay there, completely naked on my kitchen floor, the front door swung open and Pam's voice preceded her presence in to my kitchen.

"Sookie, what were you planning on wearing tomorrow night oh sweet Jesus." She stopped herself just as she'd turned the corner to see her maker and myself canoodling on the floor. "I'll be in the living room." She said, matter-of-factly, and headed the opposite direction, sitting down where I had been seated only a few minutes before, until I saw Eric wandering around the house naked.

I reached over Eric for the dress that had been abandoned and draped it over myself, trying to hide my newly acquired-bitemarks from Pam and covering all of my other parts that were for Eric's eyes only. Eric just stood up and started walking up the stairs. No modesty, whatsoever. God I loved that man.

I grabbed the bra quickly and held it low and almost behind my back as I went to collect my lamp-shade panties, at which time Pam shot me a menacing glare. "Like you've never had sex on a kitchen floor?" I asked, and jokingly stuck my tongue out at her.

"Not with my maker." She smiled, and picked up my _Pride and Prejudice_. For all I knew, Pam could have known Jane Austen personally. She was more than excited to be going back to England, she hadn't seen London, her home, since she and Eric had come to America so many years ago. "Go clean up and then come talk to me. You've got Eric's blood on you." She said, looking disapprovingly at my legs.

"Okay. But you should really call next time." I headed up the stairs with my naughty lingerie and a nasty vibe from Pam. I felt instantly better when I opened the door and saw Eric in bed, waiting for me. The black satin sheets contrasted beautifully with his marble-white skin, and my eyes were drawn to the small trail of hair that led from his navel to one of my favorite things. I threw the lingerie in the laundry hamper, and shook my head with a smile.  
"Can't you at least wait until Pam leaves?" I said, turning my back to him and untying the dress again in the mirror. I let the dress fall off my shoulders and I turned to walk to the bathroom to have my second shower of the evening, but all 6 foot and 5 inches of Eric and 11 inches of something else was blocking my path.

"I need to have a shower," I told him firmly, but he was already trying to initiate round two with a line of kisses down my neck.

"Then I'll go with you." His lips leaving my skin long enough to mutter one word at a time. I couldn't say no to that, and he picked me up and led me to the shower, which he turned on to a very steamy temperature as we were climbing inside. He grabbed my loofah and began to wash my back, and pressed himself up against me a little more firmly than he had a second ago. He was truly ready for round two, but Pam's presence downstairs was proving to be a bit of a buzzkill. I still managed to have a little fun in the shower with Eric, and despite the super-speed that us vampires have, it still took nearly twenty minutes to get that blood off my leg and get back downstairs to talk to Pam. I left Eric in the bathroom, trying to seduce me with a little towel-dance. "I'll be waiting." He promised.

"Took you long enough." Pam said, disapprovingly as I headed back down the stairs. She had evidently grown bored of Jane Austen and switched over to _VQ, _or _Vampires Quarterly_ magazine.

"Well I'm sorry, Pam." I caught her glare above the magazine. "I was really planning on doing other things tonight that talk to you about clothes." She threw down the magazine as I plopped down on the loveseat across from her. "What's up?"

"I just thought I'd drop in and make sure we were on the same page as far as what's going on where and when for this conference." I apparently looked a little puzzled, because she went on explaining, "we're arriving the night before the conference starts. Eric and I have agreed that I am taking you out to find something to wear, as nothing you seem to own is overly," she paused taking in my pair of blue jeans and my light, cable-knit sweater, "appropriate. You'll need something nicer for the conference, and something formal for the ball." I tried to not act overly offended by her accusations of my insufficient closet, but I guess it came out anyway.

"Well it's a good thing you're taking me shopping when we get there, Pam. I just don't think I could dress myself without you." I tried to not sound overly satirical, but that was an epic failure on my part.

"Why don't you just go get Eric, I've got to talk to him, too." Pam said, unamused. I was more than happy to leave Pam, if only for a second as I dashed upstairs silently and walked in to find Eric was his back to me, and a small green box in his hand, lost in thought gazing at the open box.

I cleared my throat and heard him snap the box shut and drop it on the floor. "Pam wants to talk to me?" He asked, his back still to me. I didn't need to answer, he already knew. "I'll be down in a minute."

I returned downstairs to the loveseat across from Pam, who had by this time helped herself to a True Blood. I reminded myself to eat something before the limo picked us up, it was going to be a long flight. Eric was down a few seconds later, wearing only blue jeans and a Fangtasia t-shirt. Pam stood up as he entered the living room, and I wondered if I should have done the same.

"Pam." Was all he said.

"I've thoroughly checked out the hotel and mapped out our rooms as well as those of the FBI people. They are bringing 3 people to the conference." At this time, Pam produced three packets of papers, each identical sets of maps, itineraries, and important contact information of seemingly every place in London. The first and top paper was merely a map with red colored pencil circling Pam's room at one corner, the three FBI agent's room down the hall, and Eric's and my suite at the other side of the floor. The second page was a map of the conference hall, including tables marked according to which countries would have undead representatives. There was what appeared to be a hall closet outside the conference room where it was marked that the FBI people would be located for the duration of the conference. The third page began a long list of contact information of major tourist attractions in London, important vampires attending the conference, and all of the other "vampire-friendly" hotels in London. There was one hotel listed with a star next to it.

"What's with this hotel?" I asked, unsure of the asterisk significance.

"Reverend Newlin and his wife checked in there last night, as well as 14 other FOTS members. And I don't think they're going for the food." Pam said, her accent thick.

Eric broke the silence that was growing uncomfortable. "Good work, Pam. We'll be sure to alert the FBI of that and we might have to investigate once we get to London." I must have gone a whole new shade off undead pale, Eric had placed his hand over mine. "You all right?" He asked, trying to not put Pam on alert-mode.

"Yeah," I tried to shake it off. "I just got a weird feeling all of the sudden. I'm going to get something to drink. Do either of you want something?" Pam held up her half-full bottle of True Blood, and I headed off to the kitchen in a slight daze, pulling two glasses out of the cupboard and closing it behind me, haphazardly. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Burgundy Royale, and went to the drawer with the corkscrew, and started to puncture the cork with the corkscrew, but hearing a rustling sound in the bushes underneath the window, I dropped the bottle as I turned towards the window. I jumped up on the counter, trying to find whatever had made the noise, before realizing that the bottle I had just dropped had never hit the floor. I turned slowly to see Pam standing beside me, holding the intact bottle, her index finger pursed to her lips in a gesture demanding silence, as Eric ducked out of the back door soundlessly. Within two seconds, Pam and I heard a yelping noise, like a trapped puppy, come from underneath the window, and then we saw Eric pull up a leather-clad woman by her greasy blonde hair, and the light of a full moon showed her pale face.

"Malia." I gasped, and Pam understood instantly. "She followed you here." I turned to Pam. I had no idea how I knew this, but Malia, the creature from the FBI had been watching Pam and had followed her to my house.

"Let me take care of this." Pam said, and she gracefully headed out the front door, looking like she was leaving for a PTA meeting instead of a meeting with a monster.

Dawn was only an hour and a half away at this point in time, and Eric came in with a truly furious look on his face. I went over to him, and wrapped my arms around him, and buried my face in his chest. "Eric," I began, but didn't know what else to say.

"Go upstairs," he demanded. "I'll be up in a second."

Not knowing what else to do, I did just that. I had finished packing already, taking a bag of makeup, a few naughty nightgowns, and a spare suitcase for my overseas purchases, so I just sat on the bed and waited. I heard that same yelping sound again from the front yard, and then Eric yelling at the creature Malia, demanding to know why she had been following Pam, but Malia was unable to answer. Malia had been forbidden to speak.

I took this opportunity to climb over to Eric's side of the bed, but found the floor next to it empty. No green box for Sookie.


	14. A Change of Plans

"And if you or any of your people ever come near Miss Ravenscroft, Miss Stackhouse, or myself ever again, all of the remaining vampires of Area Five will not rest until your head is on a plate. Have I made myself clear, Agent Rosted?"

I could only guess what the FBI agent on the other side of that conversation was thinking. I could hear stammering and I'd bet a twenty he'd just wet himself. Eric was not a person you wanted to piss off. Pam stood behind Malia and the chair to which she was tied, a long, slender knife poised against Malia's neck. Malia did not seem to know the meaning of fear, she almost looked proud of herself. Nonchalantly and almost bored of her threatening position, Pam wasn't exactly thrilled about that phone call.

"I have been preparing to go to this conference for weeks! You're going to tell me that because this little cretin showed up," she gave Malia's neck a little nick with the knife to prove her point, "that I have to cancel my trip to London and take my stuff home and unpack everything so soon?" She inspected the nails of her free hand to avoid actually looking at Eric.

He looked out the window as if he were expecting another Malia, but spoke very frankly to Pam. "You were tracked. You were followed. You brought this thing to my home, and you're complaining about your shopping trip. I have to say, Pam, I'm very disappointed in you right now." He turned and refused to meet her gaze, and walked slowly up the stairs. I noticed that he didn't shut the door behind him, and I thought that I would join him in a minute. But now that our ties to the FBI were officially severed, there was something I wanted to do first. Pam caught my drift as I took a step towards Malia, tied into her chair with a series of intricate knots last seen used on a Viking ship, and she dropped the knife.

"Leave some for me. This could be fun!" Pam smiled menacingly, and I stood squarely in front of Malia, tied to my kitchen chair with a sick smile on her face. She wanted this. She wanted me to hit her. To stab her with that knife that Pam left on the floor, and it called out to me. It craved flesh like Malia craved pain, and at that instant, I knew the worst thing I could do to Malia was pay no attention to her at all. Pam hovered in the other room, waiting for me to strike.

"Help me take her to the woodshed. We'll just leave her there. I don't want anything more with her tonight." Pam looked devastated at this, but silently agreed to help me. With Pam's help, I was able to take Malia, still tied to her chair, and carefully avoiding her snapping jaws, took her outside to my grandfather's ancient woodshed, unlocked the doors and threw her inside as the falling chair disturbed a year-old layer of dust. We relocked the doors behind us, and left her there. Perhaps she'd be there in the morning. Perhaps not. I really didn't care about Malia anymore.

I was void of all emotion by the time I reached the staircase. I knew that Eric was upstairs, and whether he wanted to see me or not, he was about to. I walked as slow as humanly possible up the stairs, my hand guiding me up the rail, asking me if I really wanted to go in that room. I did. And I didn't. Eric was lying in bed on his side, looking at the wall on the opposite side of the door. The sight of him curled up make him look so defenseless and sad. I shut the door behind me and crawled into the bed next to him. I put my hand on his shoulder, but he didn't turn towards me. He didn't even move.

"Eric," I said softly, moving my hand down his arm, reaching for his hand. "What's wrong?"

"I failed you." He said softly, his back still turned. "I've failed to protect you twice."

I didn't know what to say to this. Eric had taken the ultimate blow to the ego. "I didn't see it that way."

He finally turned over to face me. His lower lashes had trapped small beads of red. I pretended not to see the tears he had shed over what he saw as his failure to protect me. "How did you see it?" He pulled me close to him and nuzzled his face in my hair.

"I saw it as a fearless negotiation, and then really fast thinking. And I've never seen knots like you did on that chair." I felt him laugh softly, while his fingers wrapped themselves into my curls. I heard him breathe in my scent, and I felt his spirits raise as my point of view sunk in. I felt something other than his spirits rise too, and while I wanted to so badly, I knew that Pam would require an explanation eventually, and she wasn't afraid to barge in on something intimate to get it. He began fiddling with the bow on my dress, and I felt his huge hands roaming across my breasts. His mouth found mine and I had to tear myself away to ask what would become of our trip to London.

"Lover, by the time you wake up, we'll be there." I wasn't sure how this was going to work exactly, but the bulge in his jeans beckoned to be freed, and I was more than willing to help with that task. Eric, sensing my desire for some camouflage music, reached for the remote on his nightstand and hit the big red button, and we were nearly blasted away by the fury of Carmina Burana's _O Fortuna_, the sotto vocce softness caressing his body as my hands worked to free him from his shirt and the rest of his jeans. The music picked up speed and I found myself on top of Eric, his thumbs climbing up my thighs and his finger gracefully entered me and I let out a moan as my fangs made their way into our love life. I arched my back and leaned away from him, letting his fingers climb deeper inside me, making soft spirals that sent shivers up and down my spine and I craved him more than I had ever craved him before. One final moan from this angle, and I felt him throw me down to the bed where he had been only a second before, with one hand on my stomach, holding me down as if I intended to go somewhere, and I gasped as his tongue took the place that his fingers had just occupied. A thousand years well spent, I thought, and I saw one blue eye look up at me from between my legs. The eyebrow above it waggled in the way that he used to say, _watch me_. He bit hard into my thigh and drank quickly before I was able to heal myself and finally, after my first mind-blowing orgasm, entered me softly. We spent a few sweet and tender moments with Eric on top of me, his arms in a solid push-up position that stopped his entire weight from falling onto me and our hips rocked back and forth slowly. His lips made their usual trail down my neck, and his fangs reappeared as his mouth latched on to my nipple. I felt a quick pang as this sharpness of his fang collided with such a sensitive area, but he then pulled me on to him, sitting on him and riding him as the undulations grew faster and deeper with this new and improved position. I was coming too close and too quickly, and I threw him onto the bed behind him, and continued to ride him, changing the angles of our pelvises, slowing myself down as I rocked backwards and forwards harder on him. His hand began to climb up my leg again and his fingers dug in to the pink spot that had been his bite marks only a couple minutes before. I let out a soft _Oh!_ and worked faster with a flick in my moving hips. I could feel him growing closer, and with one final thrust from him, I felt his own orgasm, splendid and leviathan, coinciding with mine. I let myself collapse on top of him and as we lay with our feet on our pillows and our hair hanging off the foot of the bed, he pulled me close to him and wrapped his fingers in my curls. "Thank you, lover." He said softly in my ear.

I must have sounded confused. "You're welcome?" I answered, sort-of, and he clasped his hand around mine.

"I promise you will be safe from now. I will do nothing that would put you in harm's way ever again." I wanted to speak up and say that I was fine and that he had saved me more times than I could count, but he gently pressed his finger to my lips, asking to finish. "I love you, Sookie. I want you to marry me in London."

This was a bit of a shock to me, and I couldn't answer. "Eric? Did I hear you right?" This was something I'd dreamed he'd say time and time again. But to actually hear it was honestly a little terrifying.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, my love. Dawn is coming. Sleep now." I heard Pam open the door and climb into the hidey-hole in Octavia's old room, and I felt my eyelids grow heavy. As they started to close I felt Eric move me into the bed and under the sheets, and then crawl in beside me.


	15. Pam's Story

Eric had been true to his word, and though I knew he'd have us in London by sundown, I was still surprised to wake up in the back of an Anubis coffin van, bump-bumping over the London Bridge to our hotel where the convention was being held. Eric was next to me, his coffin still closed, but his brain buzzing with his thoughts running even faster than he could. It wasn't often that I could tell exactly what was on his mind, just that there was something bothering him. He sensed me wake up, and his thoughts took to a much happier direction. Pam, who must have been on a sort of bunk above us, was also awake but still resting. My last few weeks had brought Pam and I together considerably, and I was starting to feel her emotions like I could feel Eric's, but not nearly at such an intensity. Though I had never drank from Pam, she had once drank from me after I was attacked by a Maenad, and she, Chow and Eric had to drain the poisons from my blood by pretty much just draining my blood. She still acted as though she hadn't wanted to do it, but we both knew better.

I could hear the van's driver chattering away in a very strong accent in front of us. Judging from his thoughts, we were very close to the hotel, and he was more than ready to be done with the three American vampires he held as cargo. He was thinking about the sleeping vampire abductions that had happened earlier in the week from the British branch of the Light of Day Institute. His friend had been clubbed over the head and had his van stolen. I sent out the biggest calming vibes I could muster, but they had no effect on his worries. I heard a turn signal click on, and felt a left turn in to the courtyard, and then felt the driver's relief as two undead hotel employees stood at the door, waiting to receive more of their own kind. The driver rolled down his window and handed over a paper. "Northman, party of three." He said, and one of the vampires opened up the back door of the van, and inspected the names and papers attached to our travel-coffins.

"I have a Ravenscroft, Pamela, a Stackhouse, Sookie, and a Northman Eric." Said the vampire, and the other vampire must have given him a signal that we were safe to unload. I heard them first slide Pam's coffin from the bunk above us, and lower her to the ground. They did the same with Eric's coffin, commenting that this one was quite a bit heavier, and then dragged mine out with a thump-thump, and I was on the ground. I fumbled with the latch and finally was able to open it, and I threw up the top of the coffin and bounced up, taking in the cold, wet, February London night.

"It's wonderful, isn't it Sookie?" Pam said, also taking in the night. I had another word for it, but I went with it. Pam was overjoyed to be home, even on a miserable night like this.

Eric was signing papers that the driver had offered him, declaring that he and his party had safely made it to the County Hall Marriot in London. "Did you girls sleep well?" he asked, examining the fine print before he gave his last signature. A human bellhop was collecting our bags, eyeing Pam's six bags and wondering if she was expecting guests. Since the bags were a matching Prada set, he assumed she was simply high maintenance. He was right. He also thought she had nice teeth, and that he'd like to maybe see them in action later. Sometimes being a telepath is just too much.

"Slept like the dead." I joked, and stepped out of my silver plastic coffin, grabbing my bags from the ground before another human bellhop grabbed them out of my hands.

"We'll take care of these, Mrs. Northman." He said, and clumsily arranged my bags and Eric's on a cart.

"It's Miss Stackhouse, but thank you." Eric let out a small chuckle at this, and then led the way inside. Pam followed, giving the bellhop that wanted her a once-over before deciding that she had bigger fish to fry in London.

Upon entering, a hotel employee handed each of us a key to our room, Eric and I were sharing a suite and Pam was two doors down, in an equally large and luxurious room in which she could "entertain" as Eric called it. I called it seducing and feeding from silly young boys that thought they could handle Pam Ravenscroft. We made our way upstairs, stopping at the richly decorated hotel lobby, floored with marble and buzzing with vampires. New staff was brought in to deal with the undead guests, as this was normally a strictly-living hotel, but the temporarily light-proofed windows on seven floors proved to be a profitable move for the Marriot. Many of the vampires looked like we did, jeans and jackets, in various stages of checking in and collecting maps of London. There was a group of five vampires on the other side of the lobby, speaking in a language I'd never heard before. There were four women and one man, he was short and bald with a strange collection of tattoos on his head, and he wore a light linen suit despite the nearly-freezing temperature. His women looked nearly all the same in their white, flowing dresses, long and straight black hair at an identical mid-back length, dark almond-shaped eyes and skin that had once been a deep olive. They were all heavily accessorized in gold jewelry in the shape of snakes.

"Egyptians." Eric whispered to me, and grabbed my hand and led me to the elevator. Pam followed thoughtlessly, and once the elevator doors had closed and we began our upward climb, Eric explained, "he was a Pharoe once. Ramses. Those are his favorite concubines, they were killed so that they may join him in the afterlife. He will expect you to know this of him if you are to meet him this week." I was already feeling a little overwhelmed by the trip over here and the beauty of what I had seen so far, but hearing that the man who had once ruled Egypt was downstairs at this very moment was a bit much.

By the time we had reached our rooms, our luggage had already made it up, as well as a complimentary bottle of Burgundy Royale and a list of blood donors complete with pictures that were available for room service, should we require something fresher. I began unpacking as Eric jumped on his Blackberry, texting at the speed of light. "Pam will take you out tonight, if that's all right. I've got some business to tend to."

"I'm happy to go with you," I started, but he stopped me.

"Thank you for offering, but it will only take an hour or so. I'll catch up with you and Pam." He kissed my hairline lightly before heading in to the hallway to call someone. I took this opportunity to change out of my jeans and turtleneck (luckily Eric had put some clothes on me before we were picked up for the flight) and put on some black pants and a deep red cashmere sweater. I had never been able to wear that color in life, but now that I had grown paler I rather enjoyed the contrast between the crimson and the crème of my skin. I slipped on a pair of high heeled black leather boots and zipped them up quickly, and then continued digging in my bag for my purse. I finally found it and looked in it, making sure I had all that I needed. My pocketbook, phone and lipstick were in there, as well as an envelope full of Sterling notes that Eric had left in there. I began counting, and got to just over 500 pounds before Pam banged on the door.

"Come in, I'm just going to throw on a little make-up and I'll be ready." I told Pam, and she plopped down on the bed. "So what are we doing first?" I asked, trying to hold steady enough to get my eyeliner on straight.

"I have something I need to do. I can just meet you at Harrods if you'd like." I didn't like Pam being so secretive, something was up with her.

"That's fine, I can go with you. I have no idea how to get around here anyway. I've never even left the States before!" She didn't respond, but just sat quietly.

After a minute or two, just as I was adding finishing touches and blotting my lipstick, she stood up and announced that she was going to call a cab and she'd be downstairs. Eric came in as Pam was leaving, and his arms slipped around my waist and pulled me to him. "What's up with Pam?" I asked, and he shrugged. He was tense, as if a piano were about to drop on his head at any second. "You sure I can't help with something?"

"No, my love. I'll come find you in a little while. I'm just waiting on a call first. Have fun with Pam." He put his lips to mine, and we shared a beautiful and tender kiss. "One hour. And then you're mine for the rest of the night." He promised, and with a quick slap to my behind, he herded me out the door and in to the hallway. I took the stairs down to the lobby and found Pam outside, perched regally in a horse-drawn carriage.

"I could have sworn I saw a real taxi a minute ago," I joked, and Pam cracked a small smile. I jumped in the carriage as gracefully as I could in my stiletto boots, and Pam threw her blanket over my legs. I leaned back as the driver pulled on the reins and the horse began forward, and Pam leaned back next to me, and leaned her head on my shoulder. She was very upset, and instead of asking why, I just let her stay there. It took nearly half an hour for the horse and carriage to reach the outskirts of London, and a dense fog was creeping in to the city as we were on our way out. The cold was bitter, but Pam's behavior worried me so I ignored the occasional icy drop of rain that hit my face.

"We're going to see my family." She finally said. Less than two minutes later, the horse stopped as we pulled up to a high metal gate that was closed and locked. _Manor Park Cemetery_ was carved in to the gate, and Pam reached in to her purse and handed the driver a hundred pound note, and we stepped down in to the eerie London fog. The driver sped off into the night, and I found myself in the middle of what could have easily been a horror movie, with Pam and her gothic black skirts as the star. She stood at the gates, looking up at the sign and a minute later, we heard uneven footsteps and a key unlocking the padlock that held the gates closed. The doors creaked open slowly, and an old man with sparse hair, a tattered scarf and coat, and a few missing teeth stood there, beckoning us in to the graveyard.

"Good evening Miss Ravenscroft." He bowed down to Pam, and with his lantern he hobbled ahead of us, showing us the way to the Ravenscroft family vault. The graveyard was dense, with tall trees that wept over the dead and ivy that smothered the stones that broke open and dissolved the names that had once been people, erasing them from the earth as they disintegrated into the soil below us. Pam's dark skirts dragged lightly on the gravel as she followed the hump-backed sexton deep into the graves that had long been forgotten. We finally reached her family's vault, and the sexton retreated a few steps and Pam climbed the first stair. The Ravenscroft family had been beyond wealthy in Victorian England, and their vault reflected that. Gargoyles protected the bodies of the dead from creatures of the night, and Pam spoke to the sexton, her face to the vault.

"I'm going to need the keys." He fumbled with the tinkling keys and finally produced a long iron skeleton key, and Pam brushed the cobwebs from the lock and slowly opened the door inward, creaking at every inch it traveled and disturbing inches of dust. Pam stepped inside and after a minute, I decided to follow her. Inside, eighteen coffins sat waiting for her, each side lined three tall and three long. She brushed the dust off of the nearest coffin, smiling as she read. "Grandmother," she said softly. "She was wonderful. She had a silly little poodle that bit everyone's ankles and she pretended that we were lying when we complained."

"How did she die?" I asked softly, unsure of what else to say.

"Pneumonia. She took my little brother with her." She dusted off a small crypt next to her grandmothers, labeled _Charles Ravenscroft_. "He was my only brother. Can you imagine my poor father? Six girls and one boy, and having him die so young?" This was all news to me. "I was the oldest," Pam continued, dusting off the grave above her brother's. It read _Lillian Howard Ravenscroft, 1812-1876_. "My mother," Pam continued, and kept dusting off the graves, searching for names. Her smiled vanished as she came to an empty space in the vault, and she dashed outside, her peaceful mood growing angry. She picked up the old sexton by his tattered jacket and screamed into his face, "Where is Elizabeth?! Where is my sister?!"

The sexton stammered, "Miss Ravenscroft, I don't know. I'm just the night-guard." I ran up to the sexton and held him from behind, begging Pam to release him. He grew calmer in my grasp, and Pam finally released him. I softly lowered the old man to the ground and apologized. He hobbled away as quickly as he could move.

"She's not there. They're all there, Lydia, Mary, Rose, Charles, and Holly, but no Elizabeth."

"Maybe she was buried in her husband's family's vault." I suggested, but this did nothing to calm Pam's rage. "I'm sure there's a reason! They don't have a grave for you, either!"

"Because they thought I ran away." She said, a single tear running down her face. "Eric, after he turned me, made me leave them a note saying I'd run away to France. I couldn't go back." She dabbed at the tear with a black sleeve. "Father looked for me for months. I was only a few houses down, but I couldn't go home. I would have been killed. You see, Sookie, right before I was turned, Bram Stoker published _Dracula_ and people were burning other people that they thought were vampires. Eric and I couldn't stay long, especially when others began looking for me."

I was speechless. All of Pam's life before I met her had been a mystery to me, and suddenly I knew about her family, her home, and how she had been made. "You poor thing, you didn't have a choice." I said, offering my hand, not knowing what else to do. She took it awkwardly.

"But I did, Sookie. I begged him for months to turn me. I'd read it in the book and I wanted to be like Mina Harker. I wanted to be dangerous. I wanted to be powerful. And he helped me. He freed me." She explained. This part, I believed. It shed a whole new light on the Pam I had grown to know and love, despite her quirks and selfishness.

"You're okay?" I finally spoke up after a moment's silence. She nodded, and pulled a mirror out of a bag, checking to make sure that her mascara had not been disturbed by her show of emotion.

"Oh for god's sake, Sookie, let's go shopping."


	16. Pam's Heaven

The foggy night air was riveting as Pam and I raced to Harrods at Knightsbridge. The freezing drops of rain that I had despised only an hour or so ago were so refreshing as they hit my face. We dashed through the dark streets and laughed as people stood in awe, trying to figure out what had blown past them so quickly. In a strange game of capture-the-flag, the flag of course being a glittering evening gown on the fourth floor, Pam proved to either be directionally gifted or have an exceptional memory of the London she once knew. Within three minutes of our sprint from the graveyard, we were standing under the green awning, looking in on a floor of makeup and perfumes, bags and jewelry. Pam stood outside the door with her hands pressed to the glass, like a child forbidden to enter the toy shop of his dreams. "Look at all of that makeup. My god, Sookie, there's enough to even make you beautiful!"

"Ouch, Pam. She turned to me to see if her joke had indeed hurt my feelings, something she claimed to have left in Victorian England as she was turned. "Actually, you could use a little touch-up. That high speed tour of London kinda got to your hair." She caught her own reflection and gasped- she was not picture perfect!

"Oh my goodness, you're right. Let's head to the salon first- I think it's on the third floor."

I could have cared less what I looked like. I hadn't eaten since Bon Temps. "Can't we go to the café first? I could drink from roadkill I'm so hungry."

She was not amused by a young vampire's appetite. "Charming, Sookie. Fine. A True Blood to go that we'll drink in the salon."

"Thank you Pam!" And finally, we opened the door and strutted our wind-blown hair, running-mascara stuff. The sounds of Harrods' first floor hit me first. The spraying of perfume bottles at passersby, the subsequent scents of flowers and spices, the chiming of old fashioned cash registers, and rustling of olive green shopping bags. Okay, I could get in to this. The colors were spectacular, from the marble-white of the floor to the bronzed or golden finishing on the walls, this place reeked of filthy rich Brits. It was awesome. The hundreds of thousands of bottles of makeup promising smoother lines and a fresher complexion gleamed under the florescent lights and the delicate pastels and bold metallics begged to be sampled. Pam led the way to what I could only assume was the salon, dancing past the anxious teens and twenties hovering amongst the ground floor to maybe catch a glimpse of their first vampire. Naturally, they were not impressed with the wrecks that we were. Or maybe they just assumed that we were just there to see vampires too, and not because we actually were vampires. No matter what they were thinking (which after a little listen proved to be a little both, and mostly people were looking for vampires of the male variety) Pam and I brushed past them on our quest for a makeover. Or blood. But Pam was probably going to get her way and we would have to be glamorous before we could be fed. Or maybe Pam was thinking about a makeover and then something a little fresher in a back alley somewhere.

I turned off for a few minutes so I could process everything I'd experienced tonight from the Egyptians in the lobby to Pam's fury over her sister's missing body, to the people huddled on the main floor hoping to see a famous vampire. I snapped back to reality when I overheard Pam telling her hair stylist that she had once lived in London and had known Queen Victoria personally. The salon was even more beautiful than the makeup floor of the building, and pale (but still very human) waitresses twirled around the Salon with complementary wine glasses of Burgundy Royale. I motioned for one softly and felt the soft jerk of someone trying to untangle my hair from the mess it had become during my joy-ride through London. The blood was lukewarm but still wonderful after being hungry for so long. I drank the first glass very quickly to take the edge off of my craving for the hair stylist's throat, and then was able to enjoy a second glass more slowly. Even Pam had taken a glass and was able to take a sip every once in a while between her endless retelling of her memories from a Victorian England childhood. I tried to pay attention but I was extremely distracted. Something big was bothering Eric and I couldn't place my finger on it, and he was thinking too fast for me to latch on to his thoughts at any distance from him.

"So how long have you been a vampire?" My stylist finally asked me, trying to break the silence.

"Only a couple months, actually. Have you had many vampire clients this week?"

"Only a few. I've got thirteen up-dos scheduled for the night after tomorrow and a few manicures. It's a meeting of some sort, right?"

"I guess. I'm not overly sure. I'm here with the Sheriff of my area."

"It's her boyfriend, and my maker." Pam butted in to our conversation. "He's quite famous around our part of the world." Neither stylist was sure how to react to that and so they put their heads down and looked very absorbed in their work. Pam's stylist was wishing she'd gotten a more modest client and my stylist was afraid that Pam was going to try to glamour her into a drink.

The rest of the makeover went about the same, me trying to absorb everything that had gone on over the past few days, Pam bragging about her role under Eric in Area 5, and the stylists rushing to get my hair curled, her hair straightened and both of us wearing at least three layers of makeup.

The makeover finished soon after that, and Pam paid them with Eric's credit card and we were off to look at makeup on the main floor. I was more interesting in watching the people watching us and listening in on their thoughts. They were more impressed with us after we had been cleaned up. A couple boys in their early 20's ran over to us and offered to hold our makeup for us so we could shop. One of them, a lanky redhead even asked if he could accompany us for the rest of the night. Pam shrugged and handed him a large bottle of hair-spray to hold. I figured that Pam would be thoroughly entertained in the cosmetics for a while, and I wandered off to find a little souvenir for Amelia. It was as if she heard me thinking this, and I suddenly felt a strong urge to go left and found myself in a beautiful glittering room full of gold, silver, platinum and diamonds. And then I was sure that Amelia had somehow given me a little push. So I found some earrings that seemed very Amelia, little sapphire studs wrapped in a thin ribbon of diamonds. I handed over my credit card to the cashier, a tall man with deep chestnut hair and turned as he took them out of the display case. I could hear an opera singer belting out an aria from a few floors up, and I began to wander away from the display case.

"Miss Stackhouse? Would you like me to hold on to this or would you like to take it with you?" The man said, my credit card in his left hand and a little green jewelry box in his right, both stretched towards me. The box. Amelia wanted me to see the box. The same green box that I had seen on the kitchen table, and then the bedroom. Eric had been here.

"Silly me. I'll take these. And I was wondering if there was something else you could help me with tonight." He looked puzzled. "About four or five nights ago, there was a tall blond man in here, an American. What did he buy?"

"I'm sorry, I don't usually work the evening shift. I'm afraid I can't help you." He said, and walked away towards the back of his display case.

I guess I had taken longer than I thought, because a frustrated Pam stood outside the jewelry section tapping her foot. The two boys stood on either side of her, each holding numerous shopping bags.

"Eric was here." I told her, astonished. Had he really asked me to marry him last night? Or had I been dreaming?

"Took you long enough." Said Pam. "Come on, Sookie. We're expected on the fourth floor." She turned quickly on her heel and headed towards the escalators. Her small entourage followed her, dutifully carrying her shopping bags as I grabbed the little green box with Amelia's earrings and my credit card and followed her up. By the time we had reached the fourth floor it was clear that the boys had both been glamoured into holding her shopping bags, and as we stepped off the escalator she told the boys that they need to wait here for us. They both stood silently with no protest to her request. Well done Pam.

I turned away from the boys to see that there were three tall women all dressed in smart black dress suits, waiting for us. "Miss Ravenscroft and Miss Stackhouse, welcome to London. May we take your bags or offer you a refreshment?" These women were expecting us, and the one on the left was even thinking about how lucky we were to have a man like Eric making arrangements like this for us. I quickly learned from them that he had booked the whole floor so that we could shop in peace for the evening. I'd rather not think about how he pulled that off, but I'm guessing he had to reach deep into his pockets to rent out an entire floor of the most popular store in England.

"We're fine, but you can tell those boys out there that they can drop the bags and leave. They're no longer of any use to me." Pam said nonchalantly, inspecting her nails.

The woman on the left and did just that, and the one in the middle beckoned for us to follow her into the endless collection of glamorous evening gowns. "Mr. Northman came in last week and picked out several dresses for each of you to try on this evening. He also left a credit card on file with us so that you could take whichever dresses and accessories that you like. We would also like to remind you that the salon will be open at night and that he set up appointments for each of you for a massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, hair and makeup for the event two days time from now, beginning at 7 o'clock." I was speechless. I knew Eric was good, but this was just too good to believe. He had seriously thought of _everything_.

We had approached the fitting rooms and noticed the two racks of gowns waiting for us, magnified and multiplied by the five mirrors that surrounded us. My goodness- we did look good. The dresses that Eric had picked out for Pam were various shades of deep red in all sorts of styles and cuts, and even a few lacy black gowns that contrasted her pallor and red-tinted blonde beautifully. The dresses he had picked out for me were all on the other end of the color spectrum, mainly silver and white. Amongst the rack of sparkling white and silver were a few very pale pastels including a very light lavender and a scoop neck with the slightest hint of pink. "How boring." Pam said, eyeing my dresses. "I'm glad at least one of us gets to look good tomorrow night." She grabbed a blood red (how fitting) dress off of the rack and dashed into the fitting room. I began with the sparkling lavender. Trying it on slowly (I was terrified to rip something or tear off a bead) I ran my fingers along the plunging neckline and admired the muscles in my back in the mirror. I do love the way a halter top holds everything in up front and shows off my strong shoulders earned from years of hauling trays of food around Merlotte's. I wish Sam could see me now. The dress had yards and yards of fabric in the skirt and I felt absolutely gorgeous. I did a fake Miss-America acceptance speech with the obligatory princess wave and decided that this lavender beauty was coming home with me. I did similar examinations of the remaining dresses, modeling each one for Pam and the three women working, each of them having input that varied from "absolutely!" to "what the hell was Eric thinking?" and after nearly an hour of trying on dresses that Eric had picked out and dresses that Pam picked out for me (she had so much fun, I just couldn't say no) I had narrowed my choices down to a black gown that Pam had decided against, a silver gown that Eric had picked out, the sparkling lavender dress, a deep red dress (also a Pam castaway) and a light blue dress that went well with my eyes (or so the three women said told me). I let Pam pick out my accessories for me- she enjoyed this shopping thing so much more than I did and I tried to pick up on Eric's mood and location. He wasn't far off and he was simultaneously stressed beyond belief and beaming with delight. I wandered around the racks of dazzling purses and clutches, and overheard Pam giving fashion lectures to the women that had been helping us for the past hour.

I sat back in one of the plush chairs that sat near the register, probably for impatient or bored husbands who had been dragged along for the ride, and closed my eyes. Something big was going to happen and I just couldn't put the puzzle pieces together. The green box, selection of white dresses and Eric's marriage proposal last night was one I had put together but refused to believe, but there was so much more than my personal puzzle. Something around here just wasn't right and not knowing was driving me nuts. I had a sudden flash of Eric's presence and then a sharp rapping at the fourth floor window. Eric stood outside, a small pink box with silver bows in his hand. That certainly didn't add up to my theories. Naturally, the window did not open and Eric had to fly back to ground level and then take the escalators like everyone else, but the tall ex-Viking's presence at the window gave the saleswomen something to talk about.

"Were none of the dresses I picked out to your liking, my love?" Eric breathed into my ear as he wrapped his strong arms around my middle, approaching me from behind as I pretended to be occupied with the displays of sparkling hair accessories. Not that they weren't beautiful of course, but they suddenly seemed so irrelevant. He kissed my neck lightly, gently pushing my hair away with a soft caress that began at my collarbone and somehow ended with a little pink box in my right hand. He could feel my sudden panic, anxiety and even fear of what could possibly be in the box and he breathed in the scent of my hair and exhaled softly, "don't worry, it's just from Amelia. I found it in my suitcase with a note asking you to wear it to the convention." Knowing Amelia, I figured it was an overly skanky pair of lacy panties that would entertain Eric for a whole millisecond before he tore them off of me. I was a little afraid to open this box in public! "It's not skanky panties." Eric laughed softly, deeply.

I had to laugh a little at this, and I began pulling apart the silver ribbons. The box had subtle heart prints all over it (I guess it is nearly Valentine's Day) and on the inside I found a delicate beaded crystal bracelet from her recent beading obsession. This time she had remembered to add a gold clasp- the latest creation of hers had a silver clasp and needless to say just didn't work out for me. Eric lifted the delicate strand of sparkling crystals out of the box and placed it on my wrist, fastening the little clasp that I always needed a third hand for. "She said you absolutely must wear it tomorrow night, and it would be best if you wore it for the entire trip. She was very specific about that."

"I will." I promised both Eric and Amelia this. "And the dresses were gorgeous. But I thought I'd wait until tomorrow to surprise you with one." He looked unsure of this. "I'll even let you pick out the dress I wear each night we're here. Okay?" There were two important nights, one night of meetings and the second night would be a vampire social ball. I was thinking more along the lines of a really pale prom but Eric and Pam had assured me it would be much more elegant. _Like Cinderella_, Pam had once said, giving me a one-over. She thought of me more as an ugly step-sister at this point in our relationship. She was the last to warm to the thought of me being a vampire and Eric's mate. Pam cleared her throat loudly to bring us both back to reality. "Can we go now?" I whispered to Eric. Harrods was wonderful and breathtaking and everything I had ever wanted anything to be, but I just wanted to spend some time in London with my Viking.

Eric turned to Pam and cleared his throat in response. "Pam, I have some business to attend to with Sookie. Will you be alright on your own for a while?" Pam nodded quickly, her arms full of evening gowns. "Then we'll meet you at the agreed-upon place two hours before dawn. And you _will_ be there, Pam." Pam didn't get bossed around often but when she did, she let you know that it wasn't going to happen again. And if looks could kill, we'd all be dead. Just to rub in the salt, Eric added, "and make sure Sookie's clothes get back to our room before we meet you later." Pam rolled her deep brown eyes and gave a small grunt of disapproval.

Eric and I descended the escalators until we had reached the main floor, where a gaggle of young women had gathered to wait for Eric's return to the streets of London. As they saw us hand in hand, simultaneous moans of disbelief and disappointment could be heard, and Eric gave my hand a squeeze to show me how amused he was as such a response. Walking out the front doors of Harrods, I saw a smug grin creep across his face. He pulled me to him for a tight embrace, and whispered in my ear, "hold on tight." Before I could even register what he could have meant by this, my feet were leaving the ground as we both ascended towards the tops of the buildings. The girls that had gathered in Harrods all rushed outside to see if two vampires had really just flown away, and each of them more flabbergasted than the other to see that they weren't dreaming it. Eric shifted me gently into a more comfortable flying position and we began our aerial night tour of London. The fog was finally starting to break and the stars were starting to shine through the cloudy night sky. The lights from underneath us, however, were much brighter than those above us. I was too amazed for words at the things that we saw, so Eric made sure I knew what I was seeing. "The Eye of London," he'd say, "the world's largest Ferris wheel," or "Buckingham Palace. Those Corgis taste terrible." He always added a fact or two from each place we passed from above and by the end of the tour nearly three hours later I knew all about Big Ben, the Tower of London, Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square and all of the other places in London that I had only dreamed of seeing in my old existence. We looped back around to Big Ben towards the end of the tour, and landed softly on the roof of Parliament where Pam, fully accessorized and overly glamorous, sat waiting with our three packets of papers with maps, phone numbers, seating charts, and probably the family tree of every vampire attending the meeting. Pam was very thorough when putting things like this together. Eric and Pam chatted quickly about the location of the Fellowship of the Sun member's locations and activities since they arrived in London, as well as the itinerary for tomorrow night's meeting to discuss the "guidelines" that vampires should live by now that we're out of the coffin, as well as political vampire territories and other vampire politics. This was all a bit above my head at this point, but I listened in so I knew whose thoughts to follow for the remainder of our trip. So far Pam had tracked 38 FOTS members and a few other vampire-hating groups that had the nerve to call themselves Christians. Bring it on, Newlin. You won't win this time.


	17. Crash and Burn

I could smell my own skin burning. I was in so much pain but I couldn't move or cry out. I couldn't even open my eyes. It was noon and the sun was at its peak. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen to a vampire.

I could hear windows crashing and doors being broken down all around me and I could only lay there, defenseless. Screams all around me. The smell of burning flesh. The window closest to me shattered and every ray of sunshine brought fresh stabs of pain that were exponentially worse than the pain I had only seconds ago. I would die for good today. I kept forcing myself to shut out the pain. What was happening? I heard more screams, felt anguish from both people and vampires, and kept being brought back to the pain. There was a thick cloud of smoke around my burning face. "Hey Steve! Look what we have here! It's that little Stackhouse whore! Looks like she's not just fuckin' vampires anymore- she is a fuckin' vamp!" Newlin. Steve Newlin was here. And then I was even more sure that I would die today.

A voice I didn't know was next. "Well shit Jay! Too bad a pretty little thing like that's gotta fuck dead men. Probably fucks dead women too!" They laughed at this, until one started making gurgling sounds as a blade ran across his throat. The laughter stopped and the men started yelling. Footsteps ran away from my savior. I heard yelling again, but this time it was different.

"I got the curtains!" a familiar voice said. Then I felt Eric's presence for the first time since I felt the burning. He was up and moving, but hurt as well. I felt his cold hands tapping against my face, trying to put out any fire that might still be burning away. Darkness. It was dark again, but I still couldn't find a way to let him know that I was somewhere in this burning carcass. Eric's arm reached under my head and his other arm under my knees and I felt him lift me off of the bed and carry me away. I recognized the cold iron of the bathtub and felt the spray of cold water from above.

"Keep the door shut. Don't let anyone else in here." I heard Eric tell the other person, and then I felt him leave. He ran down the hallway to Pam and I hoped that she was in better shape than I was. Judging by the relief he felt a few seconds later, she was. His mind was sprinting and felt him sink from relief to fear before I fell back into death.


	18. Turning of Tables

I woke up in the same bathtub shortly after sundown. Sometime after I checked out, the water had been turned off and a thick black blanket had been thrown over me. Before I even thought about moving I reached out to see who (or what) was around. Eric was in the bed, asleep and not in good shape. "I know you're awake, Sook." No wonder I recognized that voice earlier.

"Barry!" My voice was hoarse and I moved slowly, painfully and tried to remove my blanket as fast as I could without doing more damage to my already miserable body. He knew my intentions, and peeled the blanket from me slowly. "How did you know to come?"

"Sookie, I could hear you from across the city- I felt everything once the Fellowship started busting out the windows. I got here as fast as I could but I was too late for a few people." He looked disappointed, but we had both been through Fellowship attacks on vampire buildings in broad daylight and we both knew that there wasn't much that could be done. We'd even been through it together in Rhodes.

I was astonished. "You can still hear me?"

Barry was surprised I didn't know about this earlier. "Sookie, I can do so much more than _hear_ you. I can _feel _you." Okay. That was creepy. But good to know!

"Why didn't you come earlier? With the FBI? With Malia?"

"I couldn't find you. I was looking and then I met Claude and he said you would be fine. And then I felt you being freed. So I didn't come. I didn't know, I'm sorry, Sook." Claude, my cousin of sorts was tall, dark and very handsome. And a fairy. Not the gay pride fairy (well, that too) but an honest to goodness fairy. I had been much closer to his twin, Claudine before she was killed in the fairy-on-fairy war…but that's another story. He could tell that my thoughts were straying and he brought me back to now. "Your guy should be fine. I've seen them..you guys..bounce back from worse than him. He's pretty gnarly, but we got him some blood before we went back to sleep." Barry shifted in his shirt to cover fresh vampire bites on his wrist. He understood the consequences of letting a vampire drink from you, and he was already experiencing some of the more awkward side effects. He'd been thinking about Eric naked since he drank from him hours ago. And once he realized that he had unconsciously shared that tidbit with me, he turned a deep shade of pink. Oh wow, that rush of blood to his cheeks, oh my, oh…Barry.

He darted out of the room and slammed the door behind him, jamming it shut with a chair. "I know that's not really you in there, Sookie. I'm going to get you some blood and I'll be back." He picked up his pace until he crossed paths with Pam in the hallway, and I quickly learned that she was one of the few vampires that he still really truly feared. She was bringing a tray of hot bloods up to our room, and Barry told her that he'd be back up in a few minutes. She popped out a little fang for him and he nearly wet himself as he ran away. Seconds later she waltzed through the door, twirling the tray like I had done for years at Merlotte's. She kicked the chair out from under the door knob and the door swung open, offering me a warm bottle of True Blood with a straw.

"You look like shit, Sookie." She held the bottle close to my face and pushed the straw in my mouth. "I've got six bloods for you. Barry will be back with more in a few minutes." I am going to be fine. Pam wasn't the friendliest to have around, but she always got the job done and that was a huge comfort right now. I could feel Eric trying to be alert, but falling back into oblivion. He was bad.

"Eric…" I mumbled as Pam swapped out the third empty bottle for the fourth full one. "Can I go to him?" Pam looked thoroughly nauseated by my request.

"Drink two more of these and he's all yours. You both need to sleep this off. I'm heading out in a few minutes to do some stalking and you both need to just stay here. I'll lock the door and I've hired some of the local weres to keep guard on this floor until we leave." I managed to choke down the last of the six bloods and Pam threw the bottles in the trash can underneath the marble sink and slowly lifted me out of the bathtub in the same way that Eric had thrown me in here earlier. She put me down on to the bed next to Eric, who lay face down on the deep red satin sheets. His back and neck were covered with dried blood and his body's early attempts at healing from whatever had stabbed him several times in his back. Judging by how long he was taking to heal, I'm guessing that silver had been involved. I shifted and tried to pull a thin sheet over the both of us as Pam turned her back to us to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that her back looked like Eric's. She hadn't gotten away as easily as she wanted people to think she had.

Eric's brain was buzzing but the partially formed thoughts were slowing down. I placed my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "I'm here Eric. You're here. And we're going to be fine." He found the strength to squeeze mine back before his thoughts felt silent and I lost him for the rest of the night.

The next night began with a shifting in bed as Eric climbed out and headed towards the shower. Over 24 hours of straight sleep had done him good and his thought patterns were nearly back to normal. He still seemed distracted, but not enough for me to worry about it. I was still in the place between a vampire's sleep and the point at which my body became animated for the night. I breathed deeply for smells and took in my surroundings. The blood that had been spilled on the floor remained but had sunken in to the carpet and dried. The windows had been blocked so that the sun would not hit us at our weakest moments, and the hot water from the shower crept into the room and created a clean fog. I inhaled Eric's scent and soon became animated enough to open my eyes and begin my night. And I thought I'd start by jumping in to the shower with my man. I let my hands lead the way as I slipped in to the shower under the hot water. Eric was so tall that he was never able to really stand under the water so this had become my spot. I started with a tight embrace across his muscular stomach. The water was warm enough to make him feel like his body was human again, and I let my hands run across his back, now covered with fresh scars from the day before. Most of them were stab wounds, and one patch of skin missing in the shape of a cross that must have been silver. For the first time since I had known Eric Northman, he truly looked defeated. He tried to summon words but none came. We both had everything and absolutely nothing to say to each other.

We stood in the shower, embraced with hot water dripping over our bodies. I felt like I had taken a beating as a human again, feeling so alive and so dead at the same time. Eric stood motionless, his arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on my head. Finally he spoke. "They came for Pam first. So I went and took care of my first child. I was sure that I would have time to come back for you, but I was wrong."

"You did come back for me. And I'll be fine." I guess I was unconvincing, he held me tighter to him. I looked down to our feet, surrounded by the swirls of blood flaking off of our bodies. "Please let me go with you tonight. I need to listen in to what's going on. I can help. If I had listened in last night, I might have been able to stop what happened today. I need to go. It's my duty as a vampire."

He chuckled at that. "Your duty as a vampire." He stepped back so that I could see his face. "Let me worry about duty as a vampire. I would like you to stay and rest tonight, but I understand if you would rather go. If you take some of my blood you will heal faster."

He offered his wrist to me to drink. "Eric, you need it all. You need to heal first." My fingers traced his wounds on his torso and I felt him flinch, as if that was him agreeing with me. "I'll drink some before I go, and I'll come back early. But now more than ever I need to be listening in. The Fellowship isn't done here and I need to figure out where they're going to strike next. I'm not going to be good for anything but listening in right now, but I'll do what I can."

"Then rest," he began, "and I'll come back to get you before the meeting starts." He kissed my hairline and the water sprayed his face, letting some of the dried blood slide down our bodies and down the drain.

"No way!" I tried to sound enthusiastic. "I'm going to that too! That could be the most important part!"

Eric shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?" He asked earnestly. I shook my head no and he managed a small smile.

I wore a clever little suit like the women at Harrods had worn (Pam thought I might have needed one since the meeting was moved back a day to allow extra healing time for the undead participants) and by 9 o'clock, Eric stood by the door looking very handsome in his suit. We had both had a few more bottles of True Blood in efforts to bounce back and we were started to feel like our good ol' dead selves again. The burns on my face had mostly disappeared and the scars on his back were growing fainter by the hour. I was still very sore and feeling weak from my time in the sunlight, but I was once again functional. I was adding a spray of perfume to my hair, which I had twisted up in a sleek bun to keep it out of my face for the night. Eric and Barry had spoken and Barry had agreed to stay within hearing range of me tonight in case he was needed to act quickly, or find others to act quickly in his place. A rough pack of werewolves from outside the city limits were hired to stand by the front entrance of the hotel doors. Weres had a little more protection from the outside world- they weren't as obvious as vampires and had fewer weaknesses. The one weakness we share with the weres is silver, and let's just keep that between us, okay?

"Ready Miss Stackhouse?" Eric asked, offering his hand. His other hand held the strangest thing- what appeared to be a briefcase full of information Pam had put together.

"I am, Mr. Northman." The nice thing about men that live forever is that they have all the time in the world to wait for you. And I'd happily have him there for the rest of forever.

Barry sat by a fireplace in the lobby, an untouched gin and tonic in front of him, pretending to be immersed in a book on how to stop smoking. Barry didn't smoke, but he needed the cover so that he could listen around without raising too many eyebrows. He and I were also chatting back and forth about what we were hearing from others. There were employees running around doing their chores and delivering warm blood to the vampires around the lobby. Some were afraid of more attacks and curious as to whether it would happen again tonight. But nothing that stood out as dangerous, only afraid. Pam was doing laps around the building, looking out for any signs of abnormal activity. The meetings grew interesting as Eric and several others (including the Pharaoh Ramses we had seen earlier, minus his posse, Count Dracula of Romania and his partner, Wilhelmina Harker- seriously! and other influential vampires from all over the world). Together they discussed current laws of vampires, amended some as necessary and eliminated some as needed and naturally added a few new ones. Seeing all of these people together was like having a close up look at the evolution of vampires. Dracula, while technically not the oldest here (Ramses and then Eric) was closest to what we assume the "original" vampires looked like, more partially-turned werewolf than human. Miss Harker, however, could have easily been mistaken for a human if not for her pallor from over a hundred years of darkness. Ramses and Eric were physically polar opposites, Ramses being short, bald and fairly dark complected for a vampire while all 6'5" of Eric towered over him with flowing blond hair and the bluest eyes. _Sookie…we've got a guy wearing an earpiece heading towards the elevator. He's an agent._ Got him. I stretched my arms out in the agent's direction to point him out to Eric, who nodded lightly before excusing himself for what he said was another bottle of True Blood. Before he could blink, Pam had appeared before us with a report of three other agents, one at each entrance of the building trying to bribe their way past the weres. But I could feel more than that.

Ramses and Dracula were still discussing the events of yesterday including the breaking of the painted windows and the attack that they were expecting two days later than it came. After much counting it appeared that only three vampires had been lost to the attack, all three of which were body guards for the vampire Queen of Russia, who was fine and slept through the entire event. Ramses bragged on how the Fellowship would have never made it through his sarcophagus, and Dracula commented how old fashioned that was -which was a little bit hilarious considering the source.

I snapped back to the reality of agents sneaking around the hotel. I listened in on the one that had penetrated the lobby full of vampires, and was surprised by what I found. This agent needed our help in tracking down Malia, who had escaped from the woodshed and had gone rogue.

"She knew about our plans to track down Fellowship members, especially those that we have counted as terrorists. She knows far too much, and she is highly unstable, very dangerous, and must be stopped." The agent told us as we sat around the coffee table in Pam's room. Ramses had joined us over the past few minutes with the intention of talking Pam into joining his entourage of sorts, but had agreed to at least hear the agent out.

Pam spoke, with a nod of permission from Eric. "So you're saying that you need help to kill the creature you sent to kill the three of us? And why should we trust you now, Agent Copple?"

"Because we don't know where else to turn. As the three of you know, she is particularly dangerous."

Pam had her rebuttal prepared. "So you, who knew about the Fellowship's presence in London and their plans to kill the vampires attending the conference, and you let them do it anyway? And after we're down in numbers and physically weakened, you need our help? We hardly have any incentive to help you out, sir. It looks like you're alone in a room with four hungry vampires that hate you. So talk."

Eric cleared his throat as a means of butting into the duel of words in which Pam and Copple were engaged. "What Miss Ravenscroft means is that we're going to need a little loyalty from your part. And we also need you to understand that if your actions stray from what is promised to us, you and your fellow agents will return to American soil in a casket." The agent swallowed, and then nodded. Pam licked her lips for dramatic effect. The agent shuddered in his chair. "And we're also going to need to know what it is that we're dealing with here."

The agent was waiting for this moment, and reached slowly into his briefcase, pulling out a rather thick file labeled EX-452 with a picture of the creature we knew to be Malia, standing in a pose normally reserved for mug shots. He pushed the file across the table to Eric, who opened it to see a copy of a period table of elements with small notes in some of the squares. "Radium, 500 mg" he said outloud, his eyes dancing across the page trying to make sense of Malia. "Boron, 750 mg, Krypton, 50 mg, Lead, 200 mg twice daily, 400 days." The list continued.

"This is the chemical composition of experiment 452. She's not exactly human anymore. She started out as an experiment on a corpse and she somehow ended up…radioactive." _Duh._

I spoke up next. "I know this sounds really stupid, but I'd kinda like to know what she eats." I thought it was a valid point.

"Originally, nothing. She was kept alive on battery acid. But now she eats whatever-whoever she wants. And this is the problem. We can't take her down with any weapons we currently have and lately she has been drawn to vampires. So we can only assume that she will be showing up here within the next couple days if she's not already here."

"So we kill her?" Pam asked.

"No Miss Ravenscroft. We need her alive" he changed his mind after his poor word choice, "we need her animated."

Pam and Eric spoke next in Swedish so that they could make a decision together. Note to self: learn Swedish. The room was silent outside of their exchange, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Their exchange included a small plea from Pam, a laugh in return from Eric, and several nods of agreement with each other.

"Agent Copple," Eric began. We were all on the edge of our seats, waiting for what he would say next. "Miss Ravenscroft and I have come to an agreement, which you will honor or you and your team will leave on the next flight back to the US." Copple nodded. "One. You will take this experiment back in any form we give her to you. Dead, alive, in pieces, and you will give us $10 million US dollars, which we will not pay tax on. Ever." Copple nodded and reached his hand out to shake Eric's, sealing the deal. Pam nudged Eric's ribs to remind him that he had forgotten something. He rolled his eyes and began again. "And Miss Ravenscroft will be on the cover of Vogue."

"Ma'am, I have no control over the decisions of a privately owned business," She popped a little fang out for him to show that she was dead serious. "I'll make sure that it happens." His mind changed very quickly with those little pointy teeth.

The door of Pam's room slammed open from the outside and Barry barged in, mentally instantly regretting the decision once he realized the agent was in here. He would have sensed it if he had only listened in for a split second. Telepaths. They never learn. "Uh, I've rounded up the rest of the agents. They're in the lobby… waiting." _Lobby waiting_ meant being held down in their chairs by the presence of some very scary werewolf guards and a few hungry vampires. But at this point, I could care less. Agent Copple was thinking of ways that he could meet our requests without breaking every rule the agency had ever written and the vampires of importance- Eric, Ramses, and the Count, were heading out the door to meet with other vampires of importance to discuss what had been decided upon. This left Pam and I staring at a terrified agent, shuffling around in his briefcase, stumbling over words to tell Pam.

"I could make you all temporary agents, that would give you the power you need to…"

Pam could care less what he had to say. "Sookie, let's beat it. I need a massage."


	19. Barry and Vanna White

Pam and I took the tube to Harrods' this time in efforts to be a little more conspicuous. It was still early- just past 9 o'clock but the crowds were starting to die out on the underground. Pam led us to a nearly empty car where we sat in a corner, conversing quietly about what would be happening at the meeting we were certainly not attending. This would be Pam's fourth meeting and ball, but Eric had given her a much longer leash for this trip. She had pulled it even further in the name of shopping and glamour. We jumped off at the Knightsbridge stop and headed straight to the third floor salon. I don't know about Pam, but I was still feeling slightly sore and a little weak after the past few days' events. Within minutes we were both on the massage table, and I found myself in that wonderful standby mode that we have where we are aware of our surroundings, just not involved in them. My masseuse's hands were strong but soft, and his warmth was surprisingly wonderful. Maybe this was why Eric had liked being with me so much while I was still human. While Eric was wonderful and warm to me, nothing compared to have Sven's warm hands working in circles on my bare skin. At first he was a little weirded out by the coldness of mine, but he grew to appreciate that it was easier on his hands. Pam's brain was quiet for nearly the first time she had been here, and if I didn't know any better I'd almost say that she seemed happy, which made me ecstatic. Pam spent so much time holding up her guard to be the big bad vampire that she wanted everyone to see; I frequently wondered if there was anything softer on the inside. With her massage-induced peace, I'd say there was something softer on the inside, it just needed a tall, blonde Swedish masseuse to surface.

I was thoroughly enjoying my warm-handed massage (maybe a little too much, a growing sensation was happening between my legs that would later require Eric's uhh….growing sensation) I thought about whether I really should have bailed on Eric for tonight's meeting. No humans were attending tonight's meeting and I can't read vampire minds, only the feelings of those to whom I am bonded through blood. I'm not old enough or influential enough to have any say on what happens or doesn't happen, and I soon talked myself into thinking that getting a massage with Pam was the absolutely right thing to do. And had I stayed at the meeting, I wouldn't have been able to duck over to Harrods for a naughty little nightgown and a trench coat to wear for my return to the hotel. Which was exactly what would be happening next after Pam began wandering around the store to see all the things she may have missed the other day when we were strictly evening gown/shoes/accessory shopping. After paying for the massage and tipping Sven generously, I gave Pam a very English 'too-de-loo!' and headed up to the sixth floor where I had seen the naughty things. Luckily I had worn a short-ish coat tonight, so I could skip over that and get back to Eric a little bit faster. I was sifting through a small pile of black lacey panties (Eric had said numerous times he liked the contrast between the pale of my skin and the darkness of black, especially when lace allowed a sneak peek of the skin underneath.) But then again, Valentine's Day was tomorrow night, and perhaps red would be more fitting? And then again, Pam had suggested I wear the silver gown for tomorrow night, and we can't have red or black naughty things showing through that, right? I was mulling over my decisions when a sales woman snuck up behind me.

"May I suggest something pink? With rhinestones? They are very popular this time of year."

Sure. Why the hell not. "Absolutely. And I'm going to need something red and black too."

"Is there a particular style, Miss?" Her accent was so posh and exquisite, I wanted to drop my panties- the ones in my hand- and have tea and crumpets with her.

"I'm going to need the naughtiest thing you have." With a sheepish grin, she took my arm and led me to a different part of the lingerie section where they must have picked out the wardrobes for the Rocky Horror Picture Show. "Oh my God these are hot. I'll take a set in every color."

She raised one eyebrow in surprise. _That was easy_ she thought. _34…D?_

"36 actually. And you can leave out the green set on second thoughts. But I'm going to need the black, the red, both pinks and the blue. And I'm going to need some shoes to go with the black set." She looked at me, totally astonished. I'd read her mind and accidentally answered- actually corrected her. "I'm sorry," I blurted out, "I do that sometimes. I'm working on it." She grabbed the matching sets and wrapped them individually while I wandered over to the shoes across the floor, forcing herself to think of anything but vampires and telepaths, but failing miserably. Puppies, vampires, flowers, telepaths, chocolates, me wearing the red lace (damn I look good in her mind. Wish I looked that good in real life!) but anyhoo, her attempts that thinking about nice things failed and watching her brain crash and burn into the places she tried hardest to avoid was positively hilarious. After deciding against the shoes, I handed over my credit card to her and after I signed my name very clearly, I turned on my heel with my bags in hand and felt her sigh of relief as I walked away. My own thoughts were drifting to this evening's plans, and I tried to figure out where I would change into my little lacy surprise for Eric tonight.

I spent the rest of the journey back on my beautiful auto-pilot, a vampire's extreme daydream. I sort of followed Pam and became more and more aware of her thoughts as they grew angrier as we grew closer to the hotel. She checked her blackberry quickly and kept walking through the lobby, which was starting to resume its normal splendor of London's best- Vampires or not. "Sookie, why don't you come with me to my room. Eric's going to be a while." She glanced back at me and my little Harrods bag full of pricey unmentionables. "You can show me those pink ones if you like." Pam had always taken "bi-curious" a little further than most, so I was never entirely sure if she was serious or not. She must have picked up on my hesitation to join her in her suite. "I'm fucking with you, Sook. Eric wants us and Barry to have a little chat about…things." After she mentioned it, I could hear Barry's fear buzzing like a bee- his mind moving too quickly to put emotions in to thoughts.

Pam's room was a few doors down from the one I shared with Eric, and passing by I could feel his fear. I had grown to love fear, or at least different people's interpretations of fear. Barry feared physical pain above all else, and his deepest fears are based on memories, on which he has elaborated over time. People do this all the time- add to memories, convince themselves it went differently than it actually did. Eric's fears were deeper. He knew that unlike Barry, he would heal quickly. I had never known him to fear physical pain, and his worries were targeted towards loss. Above Fangtasia, above his Sheriff position, above his loyalties to the queen he once had, and above all of his worldly possessions (and there were more than a few) he treasured his prodigies, Pam and myself. It was a beautiful fear that made me love and respect him more each time I felt it with him. He felt me walking by, and a smile crept on to my lips as I felt his momentary peace. He was preparing for battle.

Pam's door was slightly ajar and we walked inside without the key. Barry sat at the desk that had previously been covered in make-up and perfumes and Vanna White-d his contribution to the search for Malia. Four large computers sat on the desk, each of them showing 12 different feeds from security cameras around the room. As Pam's jaw dropped a fraction of a millimeter in what he had accomplished, I felt his fear subside into smugness. We watched as weres chatted on screen two, one of them leaning against the brick wall and looking out across the Thames, not caring what his friends were discussing. On screen one the Pharaoh and his mistresses sat at a table in the dining room, no doubt talking about Malia. A couple bottles of blood sat at the tables, but they were untouched. And on the fourth screen, a tall blonde vampire with long, slicked back hair carried a machine gun down our hallway. He turned to the camera and gave us wink. Eric was on the hunt.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I had run down the hallway and wrapped my arms around him. "Please don't go. It will be morning soon and you can't fight her off if you've got the bleeds."

He laughed something evil. "Oh Sookie, my lover, this isn't for Malia."


	20. Dress up or Pillow fight

I felt Eric come to bed just after the sun came up. I was already quite gone but was able to come back for a minute. "Who did you kill?" I asked softly.

"Nobody, my love."

"Then who did you shoot?"

"Nobody, mon chere."

"Where did you get that gun?"

"The Feds gave it to me. I was just trying it on for size. Was it sexy?"

I died for the day before I could answer.

"Sookie, will you quit your lolly-gaggin and get out of bed. I have got some serious work to do." Pam stood above my bed with Vogue-quality make-up and her hair in curlers. She wore a pale pink satin robe that made her look like she was headed to a Victoria's Secret photo shoot.

"Are we having a pillow-fight?"

"Are you serious? The ball is in two hours and we've got to do something with your hair." She was very frank and I jumped out of bed, noticing something crumpled up in my hand.

"Fine! I'm in the shower!" I went to the fridge and uncapped a True Blood first, putting it in the microwave. Since learning how to move at vamp-speed, I had started to race the microwave to see just how much I could get done in 90 seconds. I closed the bathroom door behind me and opened up the piece of paper that had been in my hand when I woke. _See you at the ball. All my love, Eric. _

I heard the microwave's timer go off as I was stepping out the of shower. I gave my hair a rough towel-dry and wrapped myself in one of the other towels. Mmmm… one of the things I had grown to appreciate with my uber-senses was a luxurious plush towel. I even replaced my own at the house with some from a fancy hotel catalogue. No more Wal-mart towels for this girl! I stepped out, my hair styled most elaborately in a turban to dry it as quickly as possible and found that Pam had stepped out again. The silver dress and a pair of matching shoes hung neatly by the door and Pam's make-up collection sat at the desk. I had been getting frequent pointers from my big sister, Pam, and I felt at least mildly able to put on my own make-up for special events. I started with the basics- concealer, foundation, and a pale pink blush. Octavia and Amelia's charms had done wonders for my skin. I thanked my stars every time I looked in the mirror and saw a fresh, clean complexion, much unlike the graying sunken face I had turned in to during my last days as a human. Vampires are stuck forever looking the exact way they did when they died. Since I had been turned I had met vampires that were stuck with zits, hairy moles and receding hairlines forever and I felt even more blessed each time I met another vampire with a less than ideal physique.

"If you're just going to stare at yourself, at least have the decency to close my mascara. It's a MAC."

I turned to face her, apparently with a confused expression.

She sighed. "It's expensive. Let me do your make-up." Letting Pam think you absolutely could not go on without her fashion sense was the biggest ego-ride she could ever know. She adored making people up and even performed such rituals as highlighting my brow-bone and lining my eyes at a painfully slow human-pace to make it last a little longer. I know for a fact she also puts on her high heels at a slow pace, followed by a slow-motion hair-flip in case anyone is watching. I let my mind wander around tonight's ball and what it could possibly be like. I briefly imagined descending a tall staircase in silver gown, a tiara and glass slippers as Eric stood at the bottom, crooning songs from Rogers and Hammerstein's _Cinderella_. After about 20 minutes of evil step-sisters (both of them somehow played by Pam) and pumpkin-carriages, I heard Barry's thoughts buzzing as he approached the door. I was quite aware that I was still in my sexy towel and turban so I quickly excused myself to throw on my satin robe, which was identical to Pam's except for the color. Mine was lavender- she would never allow anyone else to share in pink, the color she claimed was simply made for her.

"Are we good to go over the game plan?" Barry asked, slowly opening the door that Pam had left cracked open.

"We're ready if that's what you mean by 'game'." Pam drawled, her raised eyebrow making her look something between hell-bound and pensive. Barry sat down on my bed and shifted uncomfortably. I nodded to say that I for one was ready.

"The Feds are…um…contained as per the plan, and we've got weres guarding the doors to the hotel and then the doors to the ballroom." I was able to dig around in his thoughts for what he considered _contained_. He really meant that they had been rounded up with machine guns by Pharaoh Ramses, Dracula, and Eric last night and trapped in a meeting room with no access to the outside world and strict instructions that they should not be let out. Just to ensure that they stayed _contained_, two burly and heavily tattooed weres stood outside the door, grimacing at passersby. Point made, thankyouverymuch. Barry continued. "I've got the schedule here-" he handed us each a half sheet of paper, "doors open at 8, waiters start getting people seated at 8:30, the Queen starts at 9. She'll talk for about half an hour, then we have a 'thanks for coming' thing from all the British officials, the ball starts after that with the international welcome and I think the ceremony is going to happen around mid-"

Pam cut Barry off mid-sentence. My interests were peaked, but I was easily sidetracked after Pam's shrug and brief description of "blah, official stuff, blah, don't bite humans in the hotel. Like I said, official stuff."

Barry listened closely to see if anyone was standing outside the door. He leaned towards us and started in a low whisper. "I know these guys want this Malia bitch alive, but Eric and Dracula want her dead. I don't care how it gets done, who gets it done, or if it gets done in the middle of Trafalgar Square and slaughters a thousand nuns in the process, get it done. That's straight from Ramses."

Pam's serious face cracked a smile. "I think we might be able to handle that, especially now that the Feds won't be bothering us."

She picked up her eyeliner again and resumed her work as Barry snuck out of the room, his thoughts terrified, excited, and ready.


	21. A Grand Entrance

Pam had done well: I could have passed for Princess Grace's blonde bosomy sister. My make-up was flawless, the dress fit perfectly and the shoes were to die for. I pulled my skirt up a bit as Barry handed me a revolver that he had loaded with silver bullets for me and I stuck it in the holster that was strapped around my thigh. It was hardly comfortable, but I felt pretty powerful with it there so I quickly forgave the discomfort. "Remember- we have no idea if the silver bullet will work on Malia, but it will work on just about everyone else in there, so aim carefully. Throw the gun back to me to reload." Pam had two handguns strapped to her thighs and another in her purse; I had opted for the revolver and Molotov Cocktail of radioactive chemicals. I just liked the sound of _Miss Stackhouse in the ballroom with the revolver_ and went from there. "The Kings and people should be finishing up in the next few minutes and then we're good to head down there. Remember to be on the lookout for Malia, Feds, the Fellowship and pretty much anyone who isn't sporting a set of fangs. We good here?" Barry finished and silently hoped Pam didn't require anything else of him.

"We could use an escort." I chirped in. Pam and I both stood up and a wobbled momentarily- there are some tall shoes. Barry opened up the door and put his arm out for me- Pam had already beaten him to the hallway.

"You look wonderful tonight Sookie. I know I'm not supposed to tell you that but since I've been thinking of Eric naked for two days, I figured I'd day something straight for once."

"Why thanks Barry. I just don't know what I'd do without Pam-" I said that part more than loud enough for her to hear, "it's not quite eight and they'll still be in the meeting, could we go get drinks first?" We stepped in to the hallways together and as the door closed I had the first funny feeling of the night.

_Sookie!_ I heard a breathy voice call my name and if I didn't know any better I would have said it was Amelia's voice calling from under the bed. Before the door had a chance to close all the way I headed back in the room and traced the origin of the sound; the bracelet Amelia had given me had somehow fallen under the bed, and a subtle sparkle told me it was glad I found it. I reached my hand out to grab it and thought I saw it moved towards me for a split second. I grabbed it and went back out in to the hallway. I fiddled with it trying to wrap it around my wrist and get the clasp to work for me- Barry reached out and offered a hand. "You're really going to wear that thing, Sook?" Pam drawled dramatically. "It looks so…handmade." I hadn't realized 'handmade' was such a terrible thing until she had said it like that. Just then Barry's hand jerked back as it shocked him slightly. Pam saw this and chuckled under her breath. "On second thoughts," she said, "I think I like it." Barry went back to the bracelet and finished fastening it and then reached out his arm so that I could hang on to him in case of wobbly bits in the carpet. Pam could wear heels running down a gravel road but I wasn't quite there yet.

We took the elevator down in to the lobby, where dozens of other well dressed vampires had assembled while waiters danced between tables and standing groups carrying trays of champagne flutes, offering "Burgundy Royale? Burgundy Royale, Madame?" We wove our way in through the crowd as we saw some of Ramses' ladies and thought we would chat. There was one spokeswoman between them, a tall Egyptian woman dressed in flowing white robes and gold snakes named Inara.

"We are all very worried about tonight." She said, and the others nodded in unanimous agreement. "So many chances for things to go wrong." One standing slightly behind her reached down her thigh and shifted- I assumed she was also armed for tonight, but I questioned her ability to act under pressure. I secretly doubted my own as well. I followed another girl's eyes to Barry's jugular and sent him a silent warning. He responded that she had been doing that the whole trip.

"Sook, I need to check on something, I'll be right back." Pam said and turned on her heel, disappearing in to the crowd. She had picked a deep red dress that hugged her curves perfectly. The plunging neckline was only beaten by the non-existent back of the dress which had required a small amount of tape to keep things in order. She wore high black satin heels with subtle rhinestones on them and carried a black lace clutch. If that agent didn't make sure she made the cover of Vogue, I would see to it myself. I picked up on Eric for the first time tonight, he was doing what he loved best; hiding, stalking, hunting. I guessed he was outside the building circling as people, weres and vampires entered and handed over heavily decorated invitations bearing their names. Eric's state of mind was a favorite of mine; someone between thrill and bliss. I nodded occasionally as Inara voiced concerns ranging from who would be in attendance and whether they would introduce the vampires individually like they had done in the past or by areas because there were many more vampires in attendance than previous years. She also considered the fabric of the tablecloths, and whether they were Egyptian cotton or not. I followed the buzz from Eric's brain around, feeling for his location and mood and Barry listened around the room, but neither of us could find anything apart from the panic and frustration coming from the conference room in which the Feds were locked. Suddenly I felt Barry's thoughts shift towards the girl who had been inching closer and closer to his jugular and he turned to me quickly.

"Miss Stackhouse, I've forgotten the thing that Mr. Northman asked me to bring him. Would you mind coming with me to show me where it is?" I was more than happy to leave the girls, even for Barry's lame excuse for an exit. I once again placed my arm in his and we crossed the lobby and headed back behind the front desk to the stairs.

"Hold up Barry- I smell something." Barry tried to remember if he had put on deodorant this evening and decided he had. A small closet that was intended for hotel staff only was only a few feet ahead, and we headed that way. He looked for others and I looked for a way in- I slid my hotel key through the lock like I had seen Eric do with credit cards and was quite proud of myself when it worked. It was a surveillance room with an empty seat, a half-eaten doughnut and a spilled cup of coffee strewn across the desk. Whoever had been in here hadn't been gone long. I crouched down to the ground and groanded as my gun rode up and hit me in the thigh. The wires laying across the floor looked like they had been cut- wait- eaten. A spark or two flew in the few seconds that I had been down there and I was able to place the smell: battery acid and ozone. Malia.

"She's been here?" Barry asked as I left the room. I nodded as I got a message from Eric, telling me what I had found only seconds ago. I nodded and shut the door behind me. Pam must have joined in on the brainwaves; she was there after a few seconds.

"Let's split up- we'll find her faster." Pam said, checking her lipstick in a hall mirror. Flawless, as usual.

"I think that is quite possibly the worst idea ever." Barry butted in. "If Eric can't take her down by himself, the odds aren't exactly in our favor." Our conversation came to a screeching halt as a bellboy strode down the hallway and announced that the doors were now open and we were free to join the ball.

We headed over to the ballroom and found a large line had formed; each person or couple was being announced by first areas and then names as they walked before a small group of vampires all clad in black robes sitting on tall chairs behind a large podium. It was a little like the Supreme Court, but dead. Pam slowly grew calm as they announced the next people in and the line grew shorter. She rubbernecked around the room as they announced the McClelland Clan from Edinburg and the witches that accompanied them. The men wore the traditional kilts and tall knit socks and each escorted a woman in an off-white gown wearing the coordinating tartan draped around them delicately. Behind them stood a few beautifully dressed Japanese women in traditional gowns who were introduced moments later as the Fa family. Pam explained that their kimonos were wrapped the other way as customary for funerals, which was often the only way to tell a vampire in traditional ceremonies. The line shortened quickly and I found myself standing behind a group of four Welsh vampires and Dracula and three women that had flown in to accompany him. The Welsh vampires were announced and waltzed inside with a gentle sway and Dracula and his women stood between us and a maker-less entry. Dracula had, being the world's most infamous and terrifying vampire in the room, earned himself a less generic entrance.

"And Ladies and Gents, would you put your hands together for Transylvania's Count Vladamir Dracula and his three escorts!" Vampires everywhere seemed to be less than amused but clapped regardless, some of the Scots even had the decency to whistle. Pam and Barry, arm in arm stepped up to the entrance next and were announced as "Pamela Ravenscroft, area 5 of the Americas, and her…Barry" and I felt a large hand on my arm.

"She looks stunning, as usual. She's my second most-perfect creation." I placed my own hand over the one on my arm and looked up in to Eric's endless blue eyes. Those were two of his many perfect attributes, closely followed by his ability to make a dead girl blush. "Did you really think I would miss this?"

"You got pretty close." I smiled and we took our first steps in to the ballroom.

"Mr. Eric Northman and Miss Sookie Stackhouse, also of Area 5 of the Americas-" boomed around us and we found ourselves standing at the top of a marble staircase. Eric waved and quietly suggested I do the same and after watching the last of Pam's crimson lace descent, we began down the stairs. Violins played a beautifully sad song which I recognized from Eric's record collection. He had explained that is was from an old Swedish opera that did not translate in to today's languages. The vampires that had already made it in to the ballroom had seem to assemble in groups with similarly dressed vampires and were conversing quickly as we tend to do. I heard the cellos join in with their C-stringless friends and the melody grew sweeter, and I knew we were coming up on Eric's favorite part. More than once he had translated as best he could while this played across the house and we waltzed across the kitchen floor- we had spent weeks perfecting it so we could show the vampires of the world how it's done in Bon Temps. And then the entrance of the vampires of South Africa snapped us back to reality: we had a monster to slay.

"Don't worry about her mon chere, either she will come or she won't. But she won't be able to kill all of us." I thought about reminding him of a bomb filled with silver shrapnel that had gone off in Dallas, or the fact that the undead are highly flammable. He sensed my doubt but once again reassured me. "Just enjoy yourself. Dance. Mingle. Join me." He swept me off to the side as if part of the waltz, and we joined a group of tall, blonde vampires standing off to the side. Vikings. I was surprised to see so many beautiful people standing in one place. While I think the world of Eric, he was neither the tallest nor most handsome of the group. He introduced me to his old friends, Bergthor (meaning 'the spirit of Thor') and his wife Ida who was quite possibly the most beautiful woman the world had ever seen, Baldr (meaning 'prince') who explained that he and Eric had grown up only twenty miles away from each other and were both sons of nobility but never saw peace between their villages. He was accompanied by his twin sister, Valda, who he had turned after she had been sold as a slave to another village to pay for their father's gambling debts. Little did his father know, he had made a wager with Russell Edgington and it cost him his life and most of his village. She then introduced Yule, her cousin and Leif, her partner. And standing around me stood the only remains of the Vikings.

I felt another hand on mine and turned to see Pam pulling me another direction, reasoning "he'll talk to them all night. And you won't understand a word. Come and meet my people…" the train of her dress lead the way as we glided across the floor to see the English vampires, who were more numerous considering the location of the convention. Pam had not known any of these vampires during her human life but had hunted them down with Eric before they fled for life in New Orleans. They were polite but far less beautiful than the Vikings I had just met. She introduced me to the gems of the group, Mary Tudor (better known as Bloody Mary), William the Archer, and John Hall, the son-in-law of William Shakespeare. He had been a doctor in life and had great success with the use of his extra senses. I had been briefed on English history (with great emphasis on the Tudor reign) in preparation for tonight, and I was able to have a somewhat coherent conversation with Mary on her feelings towards the Scottish crown during her reign which she happened to think was no crown at all. Within a few minutes we had covered the atrocities of pop culture, the uselessness of the current monarchy and whether or not the bloke who played Harry Potter would make a nice vampire. It was decided that this matter would be discussed at a later date so that he may finish his time 'gallivanting around Broadway in the nude' as William so eloquently put it. I noticed that he had even worn his English longbow and after he caught me admiring, he explained the origin of the phrase 'fuck you' and how it came from this medieval death-machine.

I began to space as the small orchestra switched over to Tchaikovsky and a beautiful Russian vampire and her human companion began to dance. The balance between her power over him and his power over the dance was spectacular and much of the room stopped to stare, if only for a moment. Her large skirts glided with her in a perfect Viennese Waltz, the gentle lace barely sweeping the floor, the fabric in layers stopping just in time to move for the next twirl. Her hand on his back, his around her waist and it was very clear; it wasn't the balance of power that made this dance too perfect for words, it was the pure of love of the vampire for the man she could only love for a little while. Perhaps she could not turn him, perhaps she would not turn him, but they both understood that their time with each other would be tragically brief, but would define them both. I once knew a love like that and had been fortunate enough for it to become my forever. Eric stood across the floor on the other side of the music-box couple and reached out his hand, beckoning for me to cross the floor to meet him halfway. Not at all embarrassed to break the perfect moment of the Russian couple, Pam pulled William on to the floor with her and they joined in, seemingly dancing with the other couple in perfect formation like a most celestial quartet. I gave in and put one foot in front of the other until I could reach out and place one hand on the small of Eric's back and the other in his strong grasp. We paused for the next count and then swayed to the left, I began to think about which foot went where and when, but Eric's knowing lead quickly had to looking up at the proud Viking in a black Armani tux. His light silver tie matched my dress and his lips were pursed in hesitation.

"Marry me at midnight," he whispered, and while others pretended not to hear I knew they had.

"But I already have…" I protested, "with the knife in your office."

"My love, that hardly counts as a wedding. I want to marry you the way you've always dreamed of getting married." He twirled me around the dance floor and I saw the most beautiful thing. Standing at the top of the stairs stood my brother Jason, my friends Sam and Tara, and the most brilliant witches in the state of Louisiana.

"Yes, Mr. Northman," I said, choking back a scarlet tear, "I will really marry you." He leaned down and we shared a perfect kiss, abruptly interrupted by Pam's voice screeching across the room.

"ERIC! Behind you!"


	22. The Save

There were three possible reactions to Pam's blood curdling scream. One. Fall down to the ground and pull Eric down with me. Two. Turn quickly to Eric's other side and face whatever was coming. Three. Stand there like an idiot as a sharp-featured blonde woman dressed entirely in leather hurled herself from a table across the room and flew across the ballroom, teeth bared and aiming for Eric's neck. I did that one.

At the last millisecond I shoved Eric down on to the floor and reached out a perfectly manicured hand and aimed for Malia's throat. I smiled as I imagined the way her throat would feel as my fingernails tore it to shreds, releasing what her body knew as blood on to the marble floor. The warmth felt so beautiful on my fingertips, and I stumbled backwards in to a wall. I had not fallen, I had not been pushed…I had been moved. My hand, still in the grasping position remained in front of me with Amelia's bracelet glowing bright blue, but I was somehow on the balcony of the ballroom looking down on to Malia and Eric, engaged in a battle that did not appear to be in Eric's favor. Her jaws full of teeth- an entire mouth of fangs- snapped at his neck and his face. Eric's hands were wrapped around her throat, pushing her away with the strength of a thousand years and I watched as the Vikings that he considered family circled the fight like a predator might circle his prey.

_Tick._ Ramses sprinted towards me in a run that was more suited to a jungle cat than something that had once been human. Pam shrieked and sprinted across the floor, digging her nails in to Malia's shoulder and then being slammed in to the floor behind her and Malia's arms returned to Eric's neck. Amelia squealed with delight at her bracelet's success and Jason left her side, slowly slinking down the stairs.

_Tock._ The Vikings began to circle Eric and Yule, the smallest and fairest of them all jumped on Malia like a starving predator on long-awaited prey. She bit in to Malia's neck but instead of being flung in to the floor like Pam, Malia latched on to her long blonde hair and began ripping out handfuls. Ramses jumped on to the banister and jumped; he flew through the air and landed on to the pile that had formed, knocking Malia to the side and Eric harder in to the marble floor. Malia, seeing that Yule would be easier prey, began to claw after the girl.

_Tick. _Leif jumped to drag Yule out of the way and ended up with Malia on his own throat. The vampires that had been considering jumping in for the kill were backing away, unsure of what to do. Jason and Sam took the stairs two at a time, Sam's fingers working quickly at the buttons on his tuxedo shirt. Octavia bowed her head and moved her lips quickly, quietly.

_Tock. _Dracula, who had been keeping a low profile since his grand entrance sprinted up to Malia as she tried to tear out Leif's throat and pulled her off of him with surprising success. She saw Pam, kneeling on the floor offering her own wrist to Eric, and bit hard in to Pam's other wrist.

_Tick. _Pam's screams were guttural and described pain that could not be imagined except by an explosion of silver sunlight. She threw her head back and did not see as two large black panthers each bit in to one of Malia's arms and dragged her across the floor, leaving Pam and Eric in a weak bleeding mess behind them. Malia flailed her legs and tried to break free of the panthers, but their teeth dug deeper in to her biceps with every squirm. I jumped on to the banister to leap on to the floor below me and a tall blonde that I had not seen before screamed, running straight for Pam.

_Tock._ She bumped in to William the Archer and stopped. Before he had time to turn and face her she had torn off his crossbow and was aiming one perfect arrow. She closed her large blue eyes and let the arrow go.

The sounds of Malia's screams pierced the night and must have been heard for miles. It was high and inhuman, like a thousand nails scratching a very loud chalkboard at the same time. She flailed harder and one of the panthers threw his large head to the side and almost effortlessly pulled off one of Malia's arms with the certain movement. The other panther mimicked the first and her other arm was ripped off at the elbow. There lay Malia on the floor, her arms several feet away from her body, covered in torn leather and the green liquid that her body had known as blood. Her legs were giving up the fight and she looked around the room in desperation. The tall blonde that had shot the arrow walked towards Malia's almost-corpse, her long black dress swaying with her curvy hips and slender waist, the cap sleeves showcasing a long pale arm that walked by Pam slowly, slightly brushing against Pam's hair as she once again kneeled over Eric. The blonde lifted the bow in front of her with graceful certainty and looked down on the mess that was slipping away in front of her. Her delicate fingers released the string and the arrow landed with a small thug between Malia's eyes. Her lips had been pursed, but she leaned down as Malia took her last breath, deep green eyes looking up to meet the shooter's blues. Her lips took their time as they delivered her message.

"Nobody touches my sister."


	23. Resolution

The woman in black stood over Malia's remains admiring her precision. Two panthers lay a few feet away, panting. All stood in shock trying to put together the pieces of the last ten seconds.

"Elizabeth?" Pam stood up, leaving Eric's side and walking towards the woman in black. In response, the woman turned slowly and looked at Pam through deep blue eyes.

"Pammycakes?" She smiled, and Pam shed a single crimson tear. Eric looked up at me at the mention of Pam's pet-name, and smiled. Eric was going to be just fine. I continued down the stairs and as I reached the bottom step both of the panthers stood. I crossed the floor slowly as Pam and Elizabeth found themselves held tightly in a long-awaited embrace. "I thought you were dead. Father said you ran away."

"I had to. I couldn't stay." Pam said, her tears falling in to Elizabeth's hair.

Elizabeth began sobbing in Pam's arms. "I knew it. I knew you hadn't gone to France. I swore I saw you in the window for months after you were gone." Elizabeth beamed and the sisters pulled away from each other. Looking at them both with blood-stained cheeks, I saw that they shared far more than life forever- including the same bottomless blue eyes and high cheekbones, the same sandy waves falling effortlessly down their backs. I don't know how I could have possible mistaken Elizabeth for anyone else. I reached Eric and took his arm, pulling him up and in to our own embrace. His hair was disheveled, the skin on his neck and arms had been torn but was healing before my eyes.

"Are you okay, my love?" Eric asked. I hadn't even been touched in the whole ordeal, while he, Pam and Yule had taken quite a beating. Yule stood off to the side in Leif's strong arms, both watching the reunion of two sisters separated by an ocean and 100 years.

"Never better." I smiled and ran my hands through his hair, planting a light kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry- I don't know what happened."

"I'll tell you what happened!" All of the vampires turned to see Amelia Broadway walking down the stairs in a deep blue ball gown. "I started keeping tabs on Hunter, Sookie's second-cousin after she became a vampire. He's..." she struggled for the right word to describe him without blowing both of the Stackhouse family telepaths out of the water, "different. He's something extra, like Sookie. So checking in on Hunter led to working with Remy who knew about Barry who knew about the mutant," she pointed accusingly at the corpse, now slowly disintegrating as smoke spirals rose from her torso, "someone should really clean that up. Anyway, I found out about that thing and then the ball from Sookie and Eric, and put two and two together. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who did though, and I had to work my magic on a few Feds to find out what I was dealing with. I made the bracelet for Sookie and hexed it so that she would literally be pushed away from danger- the higher the risk, the farther she would go." Eric and I both looked down at my wrist at the bracelet, still glowing but not nearly as brightly as before. "Sorry E- that was bad planning on my part. So after Eric invited us all here for the wedding, Jason came to us and asked if we would help him to be a real panther instead of the half-panther he was before." Jason in his beautiful dark panther form walked over and stood by Amelia, lying down again at her feet. She had transformed him in to something beautiful, and he was glowing with pride. Sam went and joined Amelia on her other side and plopped down with a loud purr. "We came, we saw what was about to happen- Octavia's really good at that- and she turned the arrows in to platinum instead of wood. Turns out Sam's a whiz at chem and he figured that would do the trick…and I think we're good here." Everyone in the room stood staring at the bubbly witch who had just saved the night. "So who's ready to party?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Could we have a few minutes to just…be?" I loved Amelia's enthusiasm- disaster one minute and drinks all around the next. "Maybe an hour break to get things cleaned up?" A few others agreed and headed back up the stairs to the lobby, where waiters still danced around with trays of blood in champagne flutes. Amelia nodded and grabbed a waiter's attention, telling a waiter she would need some champagne for herself and the panthers. The waiter, unsure of what she meant looked down the stairs and nearly wet himself when he saw two large panthers walking up to meet him. Jason, already headed to the lobby, turned at the top of the stairs, revealing his naked backside complete with a farmer's tan and some scratch marks running down his back. Somehow I doubted they were from fighting… One of the Scottish vampires blushed a little and winked at Jason, and then offered him her tartan, which he quickly draped around him and blew a quick kiss to her. I said a quick prayer that nothing would come of the vampire and the panther and she turned and walked the other way, grabbing a flute of blood off a waiter's tray. Amelia had grabbed Sam's clothes for him and they were both walking up the stairs, he still in the panther form he had adopted for the evening. Sam was a true shifter and could change in to anything, while Jason only changed into a panther. He wasn't born like that or anything- he got tangled up in this girl who happened to be a were-panther and there were some jealously issues between Jason and her fiancé and there were fights and bites and long story short, Jason ended up a panther. Because he had been bitten instead of born panther, he only changed in to this furry furry-man beast that looked like the classic werewolves that you see on old horror-movie marathons. With whiskers. But that had changed since he had worked with the witches and he was now proud of the beautiful, deadly beast he became on full moons and when he just needed a break from being human. He and Sam had become quite close and a few people had even spoken about the collie and panther that had been seen playing out back at Merlotte's. Sam turned and looked back down at the ball room and waited while Amelia and Sam reached the top of the stairs. Before they disappeared together Jason gave me a quick smile and wave. I gave him a quick thumbs up and mouthed that I was proud of him.

Pam and Elizabeth still stood together, speaking quickly. Pam invited her sister up to her room so they could both clean up- neither of them could bear the thought of being seen in public looking as messy as they did. So hand in hand, they disappeared up the stairs too.

"Wow." Eric said, a damn good summary of the past two minutes. "Ummm….I could use a shower. And a drink. And I should probably go tell the agents that Elizabeth killed Malia. Hmmm. We still on for midnight?"

I couldn't help but laugh. What a casual way of asking if I still would marry him. "Yes Eric, we're 'still on' for Midnight." He also headed upstairs quickly, and I just sat down at one of the large tables, all decorated appropriately with deep red roses in ornate vases. I was only seated for a few seconds before Barry joined me at the table.

"I let the agents out. They're…mostly fine. They'll be in after a couple minutes to collect evidence." I nodded. If I were still breathing, this would have totally been a 'sigh' moment. Malia was gone. Eric was safe. Pam had found Elizabeth. Jason was a real panther. And I was getting married at midnight to one bad-ass vampire. "I know." Barry said- he'd been picking up everything I just had put down. "Wow." I chuckled a little.

"We should have t-shirts made up about this or something. With Malia and a bunch of vampires and machine guns and witches and panthers and just right across the chest, write 'wow' because that just seems to be the only thing to say right now." He cracked a smile and flagged a waiter over, motioning for some champagne. "You know-" I changed the subject as the Feds started coming down the stairs, bearing cameras a suitcases, "I wish I could still get drunk. I don't even know how anymore."

"I think you just bite drunk people. Seems to work for everyone else." I picked up his memories of working at the vampire hotel in Dallas of staggering vampires, angry and over-strong. "I'd let you bite me after a few drinks." We both smiled as the Feds circled Malia's remains. A few began taking pictures but saw that she was quickly disintegrating in to the floor and Agent Copple yanked the arrows out of her forehead a chest, letting the acid drip off of them on to the floor before he started to examine them.

_Should we be over there answering questions or anything? _I thought to Barry, who thought that he'd rather them spend months trying to find the source of platinum arrows and the short black cat hairs that littered the scene. _You're right- they wouldn't believe a witch turned the arrows to platinum as panthers carried her off a vampire._ And then we just sat, watching. I let my brain turn off and just enjoyed the peace of the night, and Barry was more than relieved to have the Feds clear out with their cameras, accusations and judgments. A couple maids were sent down to clear up the rest of Malia and soon after that the orchestra started again as vampires shuffled in slowly, sitting around the tables and continuing the small-talk they had started before a government experiment tried to kill everyone in the room. Life- no matter what side of it you're on- goes on no matter what. This mess would be a distant memory someday and everything would go back to normal. There would be other conventions, but there would be no panthers- they would be long gone by that point. There would be new witches, more vampires and new threats to our existence. Thinking about the future was something I tried to avoid doing because I knew my next century would be the hardest of my forever-life as my loved ones slowly slipped away.

A warm hand found its way over mine and Amelia sat down in the open chair next to me and gave a quick smile to Barry. The clock on the wall struck midnight.


	24. The End

There was something funny about the way Elizabeth in her English-accent grandeur said, "Sookie, love, we need you upstairs for some last minute…things." She struggled to find the right words. Pam would have said, "Sookie, your hair is a mess and you've got brain matter on your shoe" but since I was getting married in a few minutes and this was certainly a time for pomp and circumstance, I decided I liked the posh Elizabethan version better. I left Barry and Amelia at the table and headed up grand staircase, trailing behind the deadly blonde sisters. Walking through the lobby, I saw agents all yelling at each other, trying to figure out whose responsibility it was to clean up the mess and whose responsibility it was to file the paperwork on the government's now-deceased mutant. For one of the first times since I had changed over, I was able to totally block out what everyone else was saying and thinking.

I was smiling. I was about to get married. I was about to marry Eric Northman, one of the strongest, oldest, and most powerful vampires in the world. I was smiling because while the world around us saw the power, the danger, and the prowess of Eric Northman, a Viking, I saw his puppy-dog eyes that I would wake up each night to see for the rest of forever. In life I would have given everything to be loved like this for one day, and now this fierce bottomless love would be mine for all eternity. We walked back up to Pam's room, where Elizabeth covered my eyes and led me inside the room. A spectacular white dress lay on the bed, needing a bride to fill it. I kicked off my shoes quickly and sat down on the bed beside this gown and just stared.

"It's the most perfect thing I've ever seen." I was stunned. Crystals sewn across the corset bodice bounced light around the room. The layers of the skirt looked like a subtly sparkling cloud, and I imagined myself descending down the staircase while layers of silk fluttered around my legs. Eat your heart out, Kate Middleton. The wedding of the year is mine.

Of course the sisters had every hair styling tool known to both human and vampire kind, and a make-up stash that belonged in Hollywood. Pam dragged me away from the dress and pulled out the vanity chair. She had work to do. With speeds that would even make a vampire dizzy, they worked. They combed, sprayed, curled, fluffed, shadowed, blushed, and glittered me to a perfection I had no idea I would ever be able to reach. Elizabeth pulled the curls softly in to an elaborate braid with gentle curls cascading down my back. Pam carefully placed small crystal flowers amongst the curls and then painted my lips a pearly pink.

They each stepped around to face me, both looking quite pleased with themselves. "Damn we're good." Elizabeth said. Pam simply nodded.

"Okay Sookie," my vampire sister said. "Get that dress on. It's go time." And just as quickly as they worked, they stepped out. I stood up, admiring their work on my face, and Elizabeth peeked in quickly.

"There's something for you in the closet. That part was my idea." I nodded and then slipped the dazzling silver dress (with a little brain matter) off on to the floor. I picked up the gorgeous white dress and giggled a little. In the past few years I have slept with vampires, tigers, and werewolves, hunted, preyed, and killed more than I cared to admit, and here I was, putting on a white dress. It looked like something out of the fairy tale, the bodice fitting every curve beyond perfectly, the layers of silk and tulle floating around me as I zipped up the back and danced to the closet. I nearly cried at what I saw inside- a diamond tiara and glass slippers. My wedding wasn't _like_ a fairy tale, it was a fairy tale. A distant violin began humming Cannon in D, and I slipped the shoes on quickly. I noted how perfectly they fit- I'd have to ask how they accomplished that later. I placed the tiara on my head, adjusting it to lay in the curls, and I bolted out the door toward my pumpkin carriage.

Okay, there wasn't a pumpkin carriage, just a bunch of Feds and now a few English cops bickering about what happened earlier. But dammit, this is my wedding so I blew past the party-wreckers while my glass heels clicked down the marble hallway. At the top of the stairs I stopped. The single violinist's tune vibrated across the gallant room, and in the middle of the floor at the bottom of the stairs, stood Octavia the witch and Eric Northman. He had healed quickly (I'm guessing Octavia had something to do with that) and wore a flawless tuxedo and looked more dashing than I could have imagined.

During the few seconds I was staring at my husband-to-be, all of the eyes in the room (including his bright blues) had shifted to me. I said a silent prayer for the fact that I could no longer sweat, and gingerly placed one glass slipper on the stair below me. Jason had returned to his normal human form and though sporting a slight scratch on his forehead, looked stunning. He had acquired a tartan from the Scottish vampire that he would attempt to woo later on in the evening. "You look great, Sook." He did the sweetest thing he could think of, and choking back a tear, he punched me in the arm playfully. He held out his arm and I took it. In the history of all things supernatural, who would have thought that a panther would ever walk his vampire sister down the aisle? Together we took one more step down and Pam, my sister in death stepped out and offered her arm. The stairs were long and I relished every step. My skirts flowed like water and I kept my eyes locked on Octavia, whose thoughts were humming in a language I didn't understand. Her eyes were kind, and intentions were pure. I heard Amelia blessing my union with Eric in her own way and as the violin crooned on I eventually ran out of stairs. My glass slipper touched the ballroom floor, and I smiled as I saw that all of the vampires in attendance of the ball had stayed for the wedding. The vampires had returned to their respective groups, the Scots with the Scots (one of which was winking at Jason and licking fang seductively), the Egyptian vampires had all joined together to the left of the altar in flowing linen robes with golden snakes around their arms. Pam let my arm go and crossed the floor to stand between Eric and the other Viking vampires, effectively serving as a best man. Jason's arm released mine and he turned to face me. He kissed my cheek lightly and went to stand by Amelia as my panther of honor. I took my place at the altar next to Eric and the vibrato subsided just in time for Octavia to begin.

Her voice was deep, and she reminded me of Maya Angelou. Every word was deliberate and each syllable had such a profound meaning, I could have listened to her forever. "We have gathered here this evening to celebrate the everlasting trust, passion, and love that these two vampires share. Two souls have waited a thousand years for this blessed union and will be forever joined this evening in the eyes of the vampires, weres, shifters and witches here tonight, and in the hearts of Sookie Jane Stackhouse and Eric Sven Northman…"

"Sven?" I whispered softly.

"She wanted a name- just go with it." I chuckled at this and was joined by Barry, who was standing beside Amelia as a somewhat bridesmaid.

"…and should anyone object to this union between Eric and Sookie, speak now or forever hold your…"

I felt a twinge coming from my left. _Don__'__t__even__think__about__it,__Barry._

"Eric has brought the ceremonial sword of his people, the Vikings of Danelagen, which he will now give to Sookie Stackhouse of Bon Temps, Louisiana." Pam passed Eric the black velvet bag I said seen before when I was tricked in to vampire-marrying him a few years ago. From the bag he pulled a splendid steel sword, its handle intricately encrusted with deep red garnets and gleaming emeralds.

He spoke as the cold steel touched my open palms. "I, Eric Northman of Danelagen take you, Sookie Stackhouse, to be my wife. I promise to love, cherish and protect you until the end of forever." I smiled, and he mouthed "I love you" for only me to hear.

Taking the sword, I returned his vows. "I , Sookie Stackhouse, take you, Eric Northman to be my husband. I promise to love, cherish, and be here for you until the end of forever."

"Blessed be," Octavia's firm voice promised, "Eric, you may now kiss Mrs. Sookie Northman."

And reader, that's exactly what he did.

The end.


End file.
